Redemption
by Please.Insert.Name
Summary: Voldemort never tried to kill Harry that fateful night, instead he was raised to become his heir. Captured by the Order, will he stay loyal to his father, or can a certain person sway him to the Light?
1. Chapter 1

_"A child miseducated is a child lost"_  
_~John F. Kennedy_

* * *

Harry ducked as a beam of light shot towards him. Relying on instinct he took shelter behind an upturned cart, the contents of which were now strewn across the muddy ground. Hearing a shout he turned to see the Order appear. The other Death Eaters noticed at the same time and began duelling with more fervour. This was Harry's first raid, Voldemort had promised something easy for him, not willing to let his heir be at risk. Coming out from behind his hiding place, he clamped down the fear that was bubbling in the pit of his stomach and joined his comrades determined to make his father proud. Weaving in between the jets of light he watched as his opponent crumpled, wide gashes appearing on his chest and coating his robes in blood. Stepping over the body he continued on, ignoring the putrid smell of death and decay that haunted the battlefield, caressing his senses almost seductively as the night wore on. His wand hand tingled as he cast crucio on a man with greying brown hair, his screams piercing the night and he felt himself smile remembering his first time casting it.

_The man had been lying on the floor, sobs wracked his body and he clawed the stone, gripping the rough tiles as if they were a lifeline. Harry barely gave this man a second thought, instead walking over to his father who was surveying the man with a look of disdain. _

_"Why did you call me here father?" he asked calmly._

_"Harry, Lucius has told me much of your swift progress in the Dark Arts. Judging from his last report I feel that you are now ready to try the Unforgivables" said Voldemort, smiling a tender smile that looked so out of place on his snake-like features._

_"Thank you father" gasped Harry delightedly. Draco had told him about the Unforgivables, boasted that his father had taught them to him years ago. More than once Harry had begged to be allowed to try them, however his father has firmly rebuked him, telling him time and time again that he wasn't ready. _

_"Now," continued Voldemort, "I want you to follow my example, the first is the imperius curse. Although not as satisfying as the others it gives the caster absolute control over the victim, in essence making them a puppet, now watch. Imperio"_

_Immediately the man stopped wailing, he looked oddly at peace as if his mind was far away from his body. Standing up, Harry watched in fascination as he walked forward, his movement was graceful and he began to dance, his feet moving in ways Harry suspected they had never done before._

_"I have complete control of his mind, should I desire it he could jump off the tower or even kill his family. Now Harry, I want you to try. Focus your magic and let it envelop him, wrapping him completely in your control. After that use your mind to convey what he should do, however I must ask that you do not kill him, we need him for the other two and it would be a grievance to have to bring up another prisoner" directed Voldemort, lifting the curse. The effect was instantaneous and the man crumbled to the ground, no longer sobbing but defeat etched into his grimy face. Concentrating his magic, Harry cast the curse, watching as purple light engulfed the man. His pained expression turned dreamy once more and Harry laughed as he started dancing, kicking his legs up like a can-can dancer. Looking over to his father he saw pride in his eyes and his chest seemed to swell with joy. It was rare that he would make the man proud of him, yet Harry treasured those small and incredibly rare moments when he did. Lifting the curse, he turned fully to his father awaiting the next one._

_"Now, the crucio curse brings great pain to the victim. Apparently it is akin to boiling their blood and other such feelings, of course that is only theory. One cannot be sure unless one has experienced the curse and usually by that time they are too pain ridden to think properly. Watch him carefully. Crucio"_

_The chamber filled with screams, reverberating off the walls only to hit the occupants again. The man's back arched and he began clawing at the tiles with more fervour, rendering his nails to a bloody ragged mess. Harry watched his face impassive as the man writhed in front of him, if a part of him felt it was wrong then it was quickly stifled. Glancing at his father he saw his face had contorted with glee, his red eyes practically burning as they surveyed the scene before him. It was a shock to Harry's ears when the screams stopped, the silence deafening as he prepared himself to cast the curse._

_"Crucio" the screams clawed their way out of the man's throat, not as loud as before but loud enough. He no longer dug into the stone, instead writhing more and beating his fists against the floor. This angered Harry. His father had gotten a bigger reaction that this so why couldn't he! Channelling his anger into the curse, the screams increased ten-fold and Harry smiled as the dark magic pulsed pleasantly in the air around him. _

_"That is enough Harry" said Voldemort gently. Obeying, Harry cancelled the curse and almost whimpered as the feeling of power drained from him. Looking into his father's eyes he could see that he knew exactly how Harry was feeling and Harry gained a modicum of comfort from that._

_"Now the last one is the killing curse. Gather up all your hate and anguish into a ball, channel it through your wand and direct it at the prisoner. The incantation is avada kedavra" his father sounded more like he was talking about the weather than killing someone. Flicking his eyes back to the prisoner he saw what could only be called relief in the man's eyes. Relief that his pain was about to end soon. He was weak and as he had been told often, weakness ought to be eradicated._

_"Avada kedavra" Harry watched, mesmerised as the jet of green light sped towards the man. For a moment it felt as if all his anger and hate had left him, been poured into the curse. As it made contact, the prisoners eyes turned blank signalling that his soul had departed, this wasn't what told Harry he was dead. No. It was the return of all the emotions he had put into the curse and immediately he wanted to be free of it once more, seek the relief that only that could bring. For the first time he understood why his father maimed and killed so many. That temporary peace was beautiful and Harry could already feel the craving for more. A hand on his shoulder startled him and green eyes met red._

_"You have done well my son" _

A scream brought Harry back to the present and he continued battling on. They were outnumbered now, not having anticipated this much resistance from the small village to arrange for a bigger group. The Order had surrounded them but still Harry fought on, many Death Eaters turned and ran but he refused, instead standing his ground. He would make his father proud. Throwing the killing curse his eyes locked onto a girl with red hair, it surrounded her like tendrils and seemed to caress her pale face. The overall affect made her look unearthly, and Harry couldn't help but compare her to an avenging angel as the light from the multitude of curses reflected off her hair. Something dormant inside him awoke, stirred by this strange woman. Absorbed in this feeling he never saw the stunner, only registering that he was suddenly falling, the darkness coming up to greet him like an old friend as he collapsed into oblivion.

* * *

**A/N: I've had this idea in the back of my mind for a while now and thought it would make a nice change from the fics I usually write. Age-wise Harry is seventeen and Ginny is sixteen - before you say that means she couldn't have been part of the Order, I'll explain that in the next chapter along with other concepts. Anyway I hope you've enjoyed this thus far, I'm not sure when I'll update next but reviews are always motivational _*cough*_hint_*cough*_**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**I apologise for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes contained within this chapter.**


	2. Chapter 2

_"All warfare is based in deception"_  
_~Sun Tzu_

* * *

_"Now Harry, I am going to teach you about muggles" said his father, hoisting the four year old onto his lap. Harry giggled when Voldemort's fingers ghosted over his sensitive flesh, drawing a smile out of the snake-like man._

_"What are m'gles?" asked Harry, looking up at Voldemort, his face plastered with confusion._

_"Muggles," corrected Voldemort, "Are non-magic people, they do not possess magic like we do. However they are an ignorant race, choosing instead to persecute those with magic, treating them as inferior. Our government has no qualms with this, ignoring it when it ought to be stamped out. Muggles are vermin, Harry, they infected our world like a disease infecting a plant and, like all good gardeners, we must prune those areas affected and eradicate the source before it spreads any further. Never let a muggle think they are better than you Harry, if they do then show them just how wrong they are."_

_"So muggles," Harry sounded the word out slowly, "are bad?"_

_"Yes Harry they are bad"_

_Harry seemed to think about this for a moment, his face screwed up with concentration, "Okay daddy, I beweive you, can I go find Dwako now?"_

_"Yes Harry you may go and play with Draco" chuckled Voldemort, placing the infant down and smiling as he went to seek his friend._

* * *

Harry felt like someone had struck him on the head and he resisted the urge to be sick. Opening his eyes he squinted in the sudden light and another wave a nausea hit him. Trying to move his hands he looked down saw they were tied to a chair, the rope shimmering as different colours rippled through it. Conjuring up his wandless magic, he focused on trying to break through the binds, however every time his magic enveloped them, it would be repelled forcefully.

Growling in frustration, he directed his energies instead on his location. The room appeared to have once been a bedroom, the furniture dusty and an old four-poster bed lay in the corner looking as if it had seen better days. The walls were silver and the carpet a rich green matching with the moth eaten bedspread. Glancing at the door, he saw thin threads exuding from the doorframe and meeting up in the middle to form a multicoloured knot that pulsated slightly. Sighing, he occluded his mind and tried to meditate to ignore the raw panic that was tearing at his insides. It was all part of the plan after all.

* * *

"Ginny Weasley what were you thinking!" screeched the Weasley matriarch, brandishing a wooden spoon at her daughter.

"Mum, everyone else was going and I'm strong enough to be able to handle it!" yelled back Ginny, her hands balled into fists as she attempted to get a hold on her temper.

"You are not of age, it is not up to you to make that decision!"

"Everyone else gets to contribute whilst I just sit here and do nothing, do you know how useless that makes me feel!" retorted Ginny.

"Well if you want to help, grab me a bowl and take this up to our guest, Kingsley will go with you to make sure your alright" relented Molly, going back to stirring the soup with a little more force than necessary.

Rummaging in the cupboards Ginny produced a bowl and handed it to her mother before cutting up some bread and buttering it. Placing it on a tray along with the newly filled bowl, she fished around for a spoon before ascending the stairs with Kingsley following. She knew he was being kept in Regulas's old room which was on the first floor. Sure enough she could spot the wards from the top step and allowed Kingsley to go in front of her. Standing to the side she watched as he twirled his wand, and one by one the strands were released, snaking back to the doorframe. Motioning for her to go in, Kingsley stood outside the door, allowing her to close it behind her gently.

Walking to towards the bed she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. His inky black hair was messy, covering his forehead and just brushing his eyes. His eyes almost took her breath away, they were a brilliant emerald green that would put the precious gems the colour was named after to shame. They seemed to glitter in the dim light, making the mask he worse seem shabby at best. Setting the tray down, she turned towards him, realising at the same time that his hands were bound to the chair. This was going to be tricky…

* * *

Harry looked up as a girl entered his room, she was carrying a tray that looked as if it contained soup. His stomach growled as the smell wafted over to him, making his mouth water. The girl placed the food on the bed and turned to him. Harry felt as if he had been punched in the gut, all the air momentarily left his body and a spark of recognition shone in his eyes. It was his angel, the one he had seen earlier. However now she looked calm, not the relentless harpy she had been on the battlefield. Her cinnamon coloured eyes were blazing, but not with hate, no, he couldn't quite place what it was that shone in her eyes. One thing he did notice was that those lovely orbs were rimmed with red, she looked as if she had been crying and Harry felt something sweep through him. Pity? Again he wasn't sure. She appeared to reach some conclusion and, kneeling down, she placed the tray on his lap before taking off his mask. The warmth of the tray spread through him, unfreezing his bound limbs and helped him get a handle on his emotions.

She dipped the spoon into the soup - tomato judging by the colour - and careful not to spill a drop, held it before his lips. Turning his head he refused the tasty morsel, his senses screaming at him not to take it.

"What's wrong with it?" asked the girl, her voice was sweet, not overly girly, more mature, it was as if she were already a woman and, stealing a glance at her ample bosom, he supposed she was.

"It could be poisoned" answered Harry, his voice gruff from dehydration.

"Oh" and then she popped the spoon in her mouth, looking him in the eye all the while, "See I'm still alive."

Ignoring the fact that she could have taken an antidote before she came in the room, Harry complied and took the next mouthful that was offered. The creamy tomato coated his tongue blissfully, it was unlike anything Harry had ever had before. Back at the manor all the food he ate had been rich and mainly comprised of protein. Swallowing, he eagerly ate the rest of the soup and almost groaned in disappointment when he realised it was all gone. Putting the empty dishes back on the plate, Harry watched silently as she left. However he was puzzled when the wards weren't raised back up, they couldn't be that sloppy could they? Seeing Albus Dumbledore enter, Harry's guard shot up - he wasn't even aware he had let it down - berating himself for thinking they were that trusting. His father had warned him about this man, saying that it was he that Harry would have to convince, if he failed, he would either die or be locked up - none of which seemed appealing. Pulling on his mask, he waited for the interrogation to begin.

* * *

Albus watched what was happening in the room, his eye peering through the hole that lay behind the portrait of three wizards torturing a muggle: let it never be said that Walburga Black didn't keep watch on her children. It puzzled him to be frank. For years he had believed Harry to be dead, killed on the night Voldemort went to Godric's Hollow. It had never occurred to him that Voldemort may have spared him, instead choosing to keep him. However that was not what he found most confusing. No, whenever he looked at Ginevra the boy's eyes would fill with, what Albus could only describe as wonder. Maybe there was hope for Harry after all.

After Ginny hurried down the stairs, Albus entered, immediately he felt the boy's defences being raised. The openness that had before inhabited his eyes was replaced with wariness.

"Harry" started Albus, watching as Harry's eyes widened at the use of his first name.

"How do you know my name?" he asked, his voice full of curiousity.

"I know your parents Harry-"

"How do you know Voldemort?"

"No Harry, I mean your real parents, James and Lily Potter" corrected Albus, maybe he could sway the boy over to the Light after all.

"Voldemort is my father" but for the first time Harry sounded unsure, and Albus was once again filled with hope.

"No you were taken as a baby whilst your parents were away, I'm sorry to be the one to tell you."

"But… but" Harry looked genuinely lost now. Looking him in the eye, Albus dived into his mind. Confusion was the dominent emotion, sweeping Albus up in the torrent of bewilderment and... was that a hint of relief? Images swirled before him, passing so quickly that he could barely get the gist before they moved on to the next one: Harry being punished by Voldemort for not calling him Lord, the Death Eater's cowering before them as Voldemort made Harry torture them, his guilt when practising the Unforgivables…

"Please get out of my head" whimpered Harry.

"I'm sorry Harry, I had to be sure" said Albus, pulling out of his mind, startled to see tears falling silently down the boy's cheeks. Standing up he made his way to the door.

"Wh, where are you going?" asked Harry, his voice cracking.

"I have a few things I need to attend to, I will, however, be back later" and with that he left.

Harry watched and tried not to smirk. His father was right they were fools. Bringing up his parents was a dirty trick, and he had had to hide his surprise at them being mentioned instead opting to feign shock. The old man seemed to buy it however and now all he had to do was wait, he would make his father proud.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for the feedback. I couldn't get this story out of my head so I've decided to post another chapter. I would appreciate a few more reviews just to let me know what you think thus far and I hope you've enjoyed this chapter :)**

**A/N2: All the memories that Dumbledore saw were false, his main way of finding out th trustworthiness of people is through reading their minds and so I thought that that would be the most plausible way to make him give Harry a chance. Harry was trained by the most powerful legillimens alive and so it is realistic that he would have been able to fool Dumbledore. Only Dumbledore knows that he is Harry Potter, in the battle he wore a mask and so no one saw his face when he was captured. I hope that makes sense :)  
**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**I apologise for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes contained within this chapter.**

**Please Review!**


	3. Chapter 3

_'Grief and sadness knits two hearts in closer bonds than happiness ever can; and common sufferings are far stronger than common joys.'_  
_~Alphonse de Lamartine_

_

* * *

"Do not disrespect me Mulciber" sneered Harry, as the man cowered at his feet._

_"I, I did not" stuttered Mulciber._

_"Oh really now?" asked Harry, a hard edge to his voice._

_"Yes"_

_"Do. Not. Lie. To. Me" said Harry, every time he paused holding the Death Eater under crucio._

_"That is enough my son" said his father, placing a hand on his shoulder. Throwing a cutting curse, Harry watched, fascinated, as a jagged line of red formed on the man's arm, blood pooling before flowing from the open wound. _

_"Take him away, let that be a lesson to you all. Young I may be but age does not determine talent, if you question that I will prove it first hand" Harry finished with a malicious grin as Lucius and Bellatrix dragged Mulciber out, drawing a pained whimper from his lips as they touched his mangled arm. _

_"By doubting my son's power you are doubting mine. If I hear anymore word of this then it will be me you deal with and I promise you, I won't be as merciful. Dismissed" hissed Voldemort, and Harry watched as a shiver ran through the inner circle before they apparated away, filling the room with loud cracks._

_"Father?" asked Harry, straightening up his robes._

_"Yes son?"_

_"I thought you had one more member of you inner circle?"_

_"Yes, Severus, he cannot know of your existence and removing him from his post so often would be dangerous for his cover."_

_"But I thought they were all loyal to you."_

_"Yes son, but sometimes spending so long amongst others can lead to changes in character and I fear that is happening to Severus. If he told your parents about you they would try and get you back, unsuccessfully of course, but waging a war is hard enough without adding more grievances."_

_"I refuse to go back to them! They are traitors, surely you know I'm loyal to you" said Harry, his eyes flashing as he turned on his father._

_"Yes I do know but I don't want to risk losing you regardless" said Voldemort tenderly._

* * *

"He's alive!" asked Sirius, practically bouncing up and down in his chair. For the past sixteen years Harry's death had haunted him. He didn't think he could ever rid himself of the image of James's broken form telling him the news, whilst Lily cried silently in the corner. For those two strong people to be reduced to that was something he would never forget. He and Remus had tried to help as best as they could, and slowly James and Lily did seem better but, there is a difference between seeming and being. Even now he could still see the pain bubbling beneath the surface every time something came up that could be related to Harry.

It never left them. Hovered over every discussion and erected barriers between the friends that had never been there before. Now finally though Sirius felt as if he could breathe again.

Harry was alive.

However then he caught up with the rest.

"You mean he's been trained to be a Death Eater for all his life? What can we do with him? James and Lily wouldn't allow him to be detained" said Minerva, her eyes shining with happiness but she was also wary. She knew just how charming Tom Riddle could be and so he could easily have the young man in his grasp, growing up with him they never knew what lies he had been fed. If this had been anyone outside the Order they wouldn't have mattered but this was James and Lily's son. They were some of the most honourable people she knew and they certainly wouldn't allow Harry to be taken away from them again regardless of what sort of person he was. However that raised the question: _what would they do with him?_

"I believe we should send him to Hogwarts" said Albus. At this murmurs went around the Order before one member voiced the collective thought.

"But he is a Death Eater, how can we know he's trustworthy?" asked Kingsley Shaklebolt, his slow voice doing nothing to ease the tension in the room.

"Don't you dare say that about Prong's son!" growled Sirius angrily, "If he is as half as strong as his parents he wouldn't have submitted himself to that bullshit!"

"Sirius, let Albus speak" whispered Remus calmly, trying to rein in his friend's temper.

"I have reason to believe that he will convert. We need to put him in an environment with those his own age, by treating him with suspicion will only further close his mind to our cause" said Albus, acting as if nothing had happened.

"Are you sure about this Albus?" asked Minerva.

"If I wasn't I wouldn't have suggested it" said Albus, his voice broaching no more argument.

"Who is going to tell Lily and James?" asked Dedalus Diggle, for once sombre contrasting sharply with his usual bubbly behaviour.

"We'll do it" said Sirius and Remus together.

"Of course," said Albus happily, "We've done well tonight everyone. Until next time."

* * *

"What is it Sirius?" asked Lily tiredly, it was almost midnight and she'd just started to get ready for bed. St Mungo's had been exceptionally busy that night and she'd barely had time for a rest. Upon arriving home she'd found James sleeping on the couch, his case notes scattered around him as he slept on. She had taken pity on him and levitated him up to their bedroom before tidying up his work. He worked too hard and she couldn't really blame him. Ever since Harry's death James had became much more serious, often working late at the Auror office, in the hope that he could bring every Dark wizard to justice. She too had plunged herself into her work, immersing herself in her studies and, like James, often working to the late hours. She never wanted any parent to go through what she had and worked hard to save every life she could but, in the end, not every one could be saved. It was on those nights that James held her as sobs wracked her body while she felt a ghost of the pain that had engulfed her all those years ago.

Pulling herself out of her thoughts she fully looked at her friends for the first time. There was something different about them. Remus seemed to be more animated, a twinkle in his eyes that had long been absent. She could see that Sirius was barely containing his excitement, bouncing on the balls of his feet and grinning from ear to ear. Wondering what had got them in such a mood, she motioned for them to enter and closed the door behind them.

"Harry's alive!" yelled Sirius, his control seemingly vanishing. Dimly Lily was aware of their faces moulding into masks of concern. Her mind however seemed stuck on one thought.

_'Harry? Alive? How?'_

Just then blackness lapped at her vision before consuming it and she fell into oblivion.

* * *

"Harry's alive?" came James voice from somewhere above her.

_'How can Harry be alive?'_ she thought hazily, her mind straining to join the dots.

"He's at Order Headquarters" came Remus's voice.

"Can we see him?" asked James.

'See him?... He... he's really here? My baby, my beautiful baby boy is alive?' suddenly the words registered with Lily and she opened her eyes, squinting a little in the morning light.

"Lily! Harry's alive!" yelled James, his face no longer held the stoic look he often wore at home, instead his hazel eyes shimmered with life, and, for the first time since 'it' happened, Lily caught a glimpse of the old James Potter.

"Where is he?" asked Lily, feeling a myriad of emotions course through her body: excitement, happiness, relief, disbelief. It had been a long time since she had felt anything and the emotions took her by surprise, stunning slightly with their intensity.

* * *

James grinned as he took in his wife. Lily's emerald eyes were vibrant, almost glowing in a way he had almost forgot they could. He too was wrapped up in his own happiness. For sixteen years he had felt the guilt of not having been there. They had to go out for one of the numerous Ministerial Balls and had left Peter to baby-sit Harry. James couldn't remember much about what had happened when they had returned, all he knew was that Peter was dead and Harry missing. James had spent years trying to track Harry down before he finally 'accepted' the fact that he was indeed dead, even then he never one hundred percent believed it. Every time he caught a Dark wizard he secretly hoped it would bring him some clue pertaining to Harry, he knew that he had to stop thinking like that but that was like asking gravity not to function: it always would no matter what you did. Lily too worked harder to the extent that they barely saw each other, the last sixteen years had been a nightmare, but now, they had been offered the key out of Wonderland.

"Grimmauld Place" replied James, realising that Lily was still expecting an answer.

"I want to see him… we _need_ to see him" said Lily confidently, but James could see underneath that she, like him, was nervous. They wouldn't truly believe it until they saw him, until then they would question and pinch themselves, wondering when they would wake up and this be a dream.

However, for the first time in sixteen years, James Potter felt hope.

* * *

**_A/N: I apologise for the exceedingly late update. I've been swithering whether to scrap this story and really I'm still not sure if I'm going to continue it..._**

**_DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter._**

**_I apologise for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes contained within this chapter._**

**_Please Review!_**


	4. Chapter 4

_'Man's mind is so formed that it is far more susceptible to falsehood than to truth.'  
~Desiderius Erasmus_

* * *

_NOTE: 'father' refers to Voldemort, 'dad' to James._

* * *

Harry stiffened slightly as he heard footfalls signalling someone was coming up the stairs. He had heard who he had guessed were the Order members clunking their way around the house, he swore one had knocked something over as, for a few minutes, he could hear screeching and managed to make out words like 'mudblood' and 'blood traitor'. He smirked a little at this before schooling his expression, no longer wearing his mask he could no longer show the amusement he felt at the group that had eluded his father for so long.

_"Harry," said his father, curling his long fingers around his arm._

_"Do you wish me to stay behind My Lord?" asked Harry, using the address he had been told to use at the meetings._

_"Yes," replied Voldemort, a hint of a smile playing at his lipless mouth when he heard his son use his title._

_Watching the rest of the Death Eaters file out - some limping or being held up by others, his father had been particularly angry - Harry closed the door behind them before turning back to his father. Relaxing slightly, he took one of the seats at the massive table, barely glancing as his father magicked away the scrolls and bits of parchment that littered the polished wood. Once he was finished, Voldemort took a seat at the head of the table, propping his elbows on the smooth surface and interlacing his fingers._

_"What is it father?" asked Harry, watching as awareness came back to his father's eyes and he re-focused on the matter at hand._

_"Harry, I believe it is time for you to go out on missions, you are not yet ready for raids but I am aware that you are incredibly talented in the art of subterfuge. The Order are powerful and I have refrained from doing so thus far because I never wanted you to be captured or worse die. However, recently I have re-evaluated this view. The Order will not kill you if you are indeed captured and so I believe it is safe enough. Although, in the face of capture I want you to gain their trust, learn as much about them as you can and report back to me. This is of course a back-up plan of sorts and all my Death Eater's are ordered to do so in the face of capture and so I believe the same can apply to you. You are simply to useful to keep out of the field."_

_"But wouldn't they just want to kill me more for being your son?" asked Harry, feeling a little uneasy at the prospect of dying in an Order infested building._

_"No, in fact they are more likely to keep you alive for that very reason. They will try and turn you against me, using their powers to make you go to the Light and tell them all that you know" answered Voldemort calmly._

_"But…" started Harry, unsure that he would be able to pull it off._

_"Are you questioning me?" his father hissed, his eyes blazing._

_"No father, I was merely expressing my concern. I shall do as you ask should the need arise" replied Harry smoothly._

_"Good, I apologise if I appeared angry, I was merely concerned that you doubted me."_

_"Never father, I would never doubt you" replied Harry emotionlessly._

_"That is good to know. Now goodnight, I shall see you in the morning for your briefing" dismissed his father, waving a hand for emphasis._

_"I look forward to it" said Harry. before turning on his heel and exiting the room._

That seemed like so long ago now, another lifetime even and, shaking his head, Harry dispelled it from his thoughts, quickly occluding his mind. The footsteps had stopped now, a sign that whoever it was was now on the landing. Straining his ears he could hear faint murmuring and checked his mental barriers. Satisfied, he waited, looking expectantly towards the door. Sure enough Dumbledore entered, his magenta robes providing colour to the otherwise drab room. Harry was surprised when he sat down on the bed. So this wasn't going to be an interrogation, how interesting. Inwardly smirking, he faced the powerful wizard externally displaying bemusement, judging by the twinkle in the old goat's eyes he had swallowed it hook, line and sinker.

"Now Harry," began Dumbledore, "I have discussed it with the others and I believe it is for the best if you are to attend Hogwarts. There you shall be given aptitude tests to make sure you can keep up with the coursework but before that you will be in seventh year until a decision is reached. The Sorting Hat will place you in one of the four houses and then it is up to you what path you choose. Your parents have already been contacted and are on their way as we speak, your father has said that they will house you and pay any expense for your education."

"Th, thank you" gasped Harry, injecting awe and gratitude into his normally impassive voice. His eyes widened a little and a smile graced his lips, giving him the look of being elated at the prospect of attending the so called school and living with the blood traitors, the family that would have used him to fulfil some stupid prophecy that no one even knew existed despite if it costed him his life! Controlling his breathing he took his thoughts away from such deadly waters and perused elsewhere. A patronus entered the room, a weasel by the looks of it:

"The Potter's are here" it reported before vanishing.

"Ah, Harry are you ready to meet your parents?" asked Dumbledore.

"What, what if they don't like me?" asked Harry quietly, looking at the floor.

"Harry, they've dreamed of this day for sixteen years, they are hardly going to hate you" said Dumbledore gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. Feeling a warmth shoot down his spine Harry noticed that his was no longer stuck to the chair. Flexing his aching muscles he sighed, hearing his bones crack as they got used to movement. Another hand movement and his robes had been transfigured into black jeans and a green t-shirt. Looking at Dumbledore quizzically the older man chuckled.

"I don't think that they would want to see you dressed up as a Death Eater" said Dumbledore before leading Harry out of the room gently.

At first Harry almost grinned in delight, his heart certainly beat faster, Dumbledore no doubt thought that this was due to meeting his parents. No, although he was a little nervous at meeting them - this would be the true test of his mask's strength - he was elated at the prospect of exploring the Headquarters. However this hope soon diminished as he realised they had hidden anything that could possibly identify the place to him. Stopping at a nondescript door, Harry was confused until he heard-

"Get away from the door Moony or I swear I'll hex you!" It was a man's voice, an angry man judging by the tone.

Placing a hand on the doorknob, Harry opened the door, feeling Dumbledore nudge him a little to go inside. Immediately the chatter ceased and all eyes flew to him. Scanning the occupents he noted a man with shaggy black hair, another standing by the door with light brown hair with streaks of grey, he had scratch marks on his arm and Harry frowned, running through a myriad of possible situations where they could have came from. He had guessed the man that had been shouting was the one that looked almost exactly like him, there was no mistaking that they were related. The red haired women next to his dad, Harry guessed was his mum, her emerald eyes again eerily like his. His father had once commented that they looked the exact colour of the killing curse and, after an 'experiment' Harry had found he was right.

"Harry" his mum uttered, her voice full of disbelief as if she thought this a dream and him an apparition.

"Mum" he croaked, his voice thick as if he was suppressing tears. That was all she needed to release the flood of emotion, pent up behind her strained expression. Embracing her, Harry stiffened initially before forcing himself to relax. His father had never hugged him and so it took some getting used to. Feeling her fingers comb through his hair he leaned into them, enjoying the feeling.

"You used to love that when you were a baby" said his dad, coming up behind his mum.

"I can't remember" he confessed, pulling away from his mum who looked as if she could have held him forever and still it wouldn't have been long enough.

"Well we'll have to create new memories then" said his mum, smiling brightly, it was radiant and filled Harry with a strange emotion. Happiness perhaps? He wasn't quite sure.

"That sounds good" sighed Harry, smiling.

"Hey kiddo, do you remember me?" asked the shaggy haired man gently.

"No, I'm sorry" replied Harry, feigning sadness.

"I'm wounded pup" said the man, clutching his heart dramatically.

"Sirius shut up, he was only one year old" said the man with the scratches, "Harry I'm Remus and this is your godfather Sirius."

"Its nice to meet you" said Harry, politely.

"James, do you mind if Remus and I come back with you?" asked Sirius, addressing his dad.

"Sure," replied James, "What do you say Harry, do you want to go home?"

"Yes" replied Harry grinning, "If that is okay of course" he added, looking at Dumbledore and injecting uncertainty into his voice.

"Of course Harry, I'm sure you have a lot to discuss. I will be by tomorrow to make sure everything is alright" answered Dumbledore, his blue eyes glittering more than ever, "Goodnight."

"Potter Manor" said Remus, throwing some floo powder into the fire and Harry watched as it roared, emerald flames rearing from the hearth. Stepping in with James and Lily, he felt himself spin and got rather dizzy before they pushed him out and he stumbled slightly before Sirius caught him.

"Welcome home Harry" said James, beaming.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for the feedback! I really should be working on my other stories but you motivated me to do this first! **

**Little explanation: Harry knows about the prophecy but he thinks the Light were just going to use him as a weapon, and his parents would basically give him up to the cause like a lamb to the slaughter without any training. Voldemort however trained him, feeding him lies about it to fuel his anger and so he could harness the rage and manipulate it - this all becomes relevent later which is why I'm mentioning it now to dispell confusion. I'll be calling James and Lily mainly by their first names from Harry's perspective, he only called them mum and dad in this chapter as he never knew their names - Voldemort never told him so he couldn't track them down. **

**One reviewer mentioned that there wasn't really anything to redeem. What I'm interested in is the nature/nurture arguement. If he has been fed these ideals for sixteen years he will believe them as he has nothing with which to provoke doubt at their claims. Will being placed in a new environment change Harry's ideals or will he stick with his mission and destroy the Order?**

**Oh and those who alerted, I apologise for the false alarm about the update. I clicked on the wrong story and the chapter I accidentally published was for a Criminal Minds fic I am working on which is rather embarressing as it wasn't even the right category! I have no idea how I managed that, so yeah I'm sorry :/  
**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**I apologise for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes contained within this chapter.**

**Please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

_"The beginning is the most important part of the work."_  
_~Plato_

* * *

Harry gazed around the room, his eyes lingering on the photos that littered the mantelpiece. They were his parents, they looked happy. It was strange but he could see himself in them, see little quirks about them that he too had displayed over the years. He felt contaminated, he had always wanted to be like his father but, seeing these pictures, he realised he could only be like him so much, there would always be a part of these people in him. He was a part of everything he had grown up to hate. He would have to find a way around this, perhaps he could ask his father when he got a moment away from these cretins.

"What do you think Harry?" asked Lily, her face tear streaked but also possessing a glow that Harry supposed his presence had brought about. How weak.

"It, it is amazing. At the castle it was so cold but here… here" he trailed off, pretending to be lost for words. Actually part of what he said was true, the castle was indeed cold. The furnishings were darker, less warm that the ones here. He resisted the urge to sneer. He preferred the cold, it suited him, echoed what he himself felt like on a regular basis and lulled him into a sense of relaxation. This room had done the opposite, the warm woodland colours that were meant to set someone at peace had failed in their task. In fact they had achieved the opposite, now he was alert, the nature of his mission hitting his nerves and setting them on edge.

"We understand Harry" said James, clapping him on the shoulder in a gesture that was clearly supposed to convey some sort of understanding. If only he knew. Looking up into the happiness dancing in James's hazel eyes he felt something inside him stir, rearing its head slightly and testing the air before settling back down, dormant once more.

"Would you like a tour or do you want that to wait for tomorrow?" asked Lily gently.

"Tomorrow if that is alright, I'm really sleepy" replied Harry, faking a yawn.

"Right we'll show you your room Harry" said James, wrapping an arm around Lily's waist, "I daresay I can transfigure your clothes into pyjamas for tonight."

"What do you mean you? You were always awful at transfiguration" laughed Lily, her laughter tinkling in the air and wrapping around Harry, drawing him in. Steeling himself Harry shook it off, his father had said they would try and gain his trust, if this was all they were going to do then they were rather pathetic.

"Okay, fine" smiled James, holding his hands up in defeat "Mum will transfigure your clothing."

Forcing a laugh, Harry smiled at Remus and Sirius before following his parents out of the room. The lounge it appeared had foreshadowed what the rest of the manor would be like. There was a lot of antique furniture, the various polished wood glinting in the light that emanated from the candles contained in the sconces. The thick red carpet muffled their footsteps as they climbed up the first floor and Harry had to prevent himself from rolling his eyes. His father had told him that his parents had been foolish Gryffindors and it appeared they took house pride seriously. Coming to a cherry wood door, James turned the brass handle and they entered. The carpet, instead of the red that he had come to expect from all the rooms in the manor, was a deep forest green. This set Harry a little more at ease and he wondered if his parents had planned that. Looking into their happy faces he highly doubted that and reasoned that it was just coincidence. The four-poster bed was covered in a dark blue-almost-navy bedspread. In the corner there was an empty closet, next to it a comfortable looking armchair no doubt to go with the bookcase aligning the adjacent wall, this was rendered redundant however by the fact the bookcase was empty. A solitary candle sat on the bedside cabinet, its light brighter than those in the hall and able to illuminate the room fully. Feeling his clothes turn more cottony, Harry glanced down and noticed that he was now wearing a pair of light blue pyjamas

"Thanks mum" he said, looking at Lily happily.

"Don't mention it. If you need anything in the night don't hesitate to call us. We're just down the hall so it'll be no trouble" waved off Lily, drawing Harry in her arms. Returning her embrace Harry tried not to shudder, unused to all the physical contact he was receiving.

"Don't smother the boy" joked James, sheepishly Lily drew back from him.

"Sorry, I never thought I'd ever get to hold you again so I just want to make sure I won't wake up and it will all be a dream" explained Lily, Harry watched as James eyes darkened a little with understanding.

"I understand, it… it's quite a shock for me too" said Harry, injecting his voice with emotion.

"Goodnight son" said James, leading Lily from the room, her emerald eyes showing that she could have stayed there forever and never gotten bored.

"Night mum, night dad" said Harry as the door closed behind them.

Waiting a few moments, Harry flopped down on the bed, sinking into the comfortable mattress. This situation was getting more and more uncomfortable as the seconds dragged on and he inwardly cursed himself for allowing himself to get into this situation. Groaning, Harry rolled back his sleeve, looking at the unblemished skin of his forearm. Then, slowly, black dots began to appear, joining together to form the outline of a snake, the only colour on it other than black was red, outlining the eye. Casting silencing charms around the bed - he refused to call it 'his' bed - he held his arm closer to his face.

"Father?" he asked, remembering the first time he had done this feeling stupid for talking to what was essentially a drawing. Waiting a few moments he saw the snake become animated.

"Yesss" hissed the snake, a little forked tongue appearing when it opened it's mouth.

"Father, I am in the Potter residence, I do not know when they shall begin to trust me fully, the only parts of the Order's headquarters that I saw were bare, however I feel my 'parents' will be more than happy to tell me all that I wish to know" reported Harry.

"Good, report back to me when you have any other news. I am glad to know you are safe son, are they treating you well?"

"Yes, they are hospitable enough but I miss the castle. The old goat plans to send me to Hogwarts in a few days so I don't know when I'll next be in touch, however everything is going well thus far."

"Well done, I am proud of you but do not make my pride waver. You have a large task ahead of you and I need you to focus. I am afraid I have other matters to attend to at this moment but be careful and I look forward to you contacting me again."

"Of course father, I understand" said Harry, watching as the snake faded back into his arm, leaving his skin unblemished once more. Ensconcing himself in the cool folds, Harry blew out the candle and curled up, waiting for sleep to grace him with it's presence.

* * *

"What do you think?" asked James, pouring himself a firewhiskey from the drinks cabinet in the corner. Looking over at Sirius and Remus he saw that his friends although happy seemed deep in thought. Waiting for them to reach whatever conclusion they were aiming for, James sat down on the couch, smiling a little when Lily snuggled up to him.

"I think he is just a little overwhelmed" said Remus, sipping his own firewhiskey thoughtfully.

"Dumbledore said it would take time for him to adjust, personally I thought he took it pretty well" said Sirius.

"I don't care how long it takes him to adjust, it's just nice having him home" said Lily softly.

"He's being sent to Hogwarts, I wonder if he'll play Quidditch."

"James, just because he's your son doesn't mean he'll play Quidditch" laughed Lily, relieving the sombre atmosphere from the room. It was strange having their son in the house again. James never dwelled on this, instead trying to control the expanding bubble of excitement that thrummed in his chest. He hadn't thought he would ever see Harry again let alone have him back under their roof. Thinking back to the last sixteen years he couldn't help but feel they were a distant memory, another life. For him his life had begun again and, looking at Lily's smiling form, he knew she felt the same way. Hearing her laugh was like music to his ears, reviving him and reminding him of how much he had missed it.

"Huh?" he said, his mind catching up on the conversation.

"Eloquent as always James" smirked Remus.

"Hey!" exclaimed James, the automatic response for whenever he was insulted.

"We should probably go to Diagon Alley tomorrow, Harry will need his school things" sighed Lily, the sound aging her.

"I know its hard that we've just found him but the last thing we want to do is smother him. At Hogwarts he'll be able to carve a new life for himself, away from Voldemort. Plus we still have the weekends" said James, wrapping an arm around Lily.

"Wow, that was actually quite good James" said Sirius, his voice laced with awe but underneath James could see the understanding. Sirius just chose humour to disguise the fact he was a fully functioning member of the wizarding race, a trait that had gotten him numerous ex's and more than a few slaps. However it was a trait James appreciated, giving levity to a situation rather than allowing them to drown in a sea of emotion. Hell if it wasn't for Sirius James would still be in that hole he had dug for himself sixteen years ago!

"I have my moments" conceded James, grinning slightly.

"We better be off anyway. We'll probably drop by tomorrow at some point though" said Remus, rising from his armchair.

"Uh, yeah" said Sirius quickly, eventually catching on that Remus was trying to give James and Lily some privacy. Seeing them to the fireplace, James smiled at his friends as they disappeared into the emerald flames. Moving back to the couch, James once again wrapped his arms around Lily, hearing her sigh as she half lay on him.

"Do you think he'll be alright?" asked Lily, worry coating her words.

"It will be hard but yeah I think everything will work out somehow" said James, feeling Lily's tears soak into his shirt as she wept silently against him.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for the feedback, however I'm quite worried, the review count was lower than the previous chapter, am I doing something wrong?**

** Sorry I haven't updated this in a while, I have other fics on the go and a ton of deadlines due for school - final years are not fun, it's bloody difficult! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and please review! I won't be mean and say I want so many reviews for a next chapter as I don't agree with that however I do like to know what people think!**

**As for Harry's mark, he's Voldemort's heir and so I don't think Voldemort would want him to have the usual one.  
**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**I apologise for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes.**


	6. Chapter 6

_Vitality shows in not only the ability to persist but the ability to start over._  
_~F. Scott Fitzgerald_

* * *

Walking through Diagon Alley Harry had to force himself not to cast cleaning charms on his clothing. Everyone bustled about, smashing into everyone else creating a chain reaction that resulted in you being shoved even further from your destination. It was infuriating. These people had absolutely no sense of decency, if they knew who he was they would think twice about walking into him. With that in mind he glared at the podgy witch in frilly pink robes, the reason he was now rubbing his shoulder, trying to control the urge to curse her. However she merely rushed along, unaware of the wrath she had just escaped from. Narrowly.

"Harry are you okay?" asked Lily, her green eyes flashing with concern.

"Yes, I'm just not used to so many people" replied Harry quietly, pretending to be a little frightened.

"Oh shoot we never thought of that," said James, "Here" Harry felt a shield charm envelop him, the thin layer of magic repelling those cretins from coming closer to him than an inch. It still made him uncomfortable but a part, a very small part he amended, was thankful that they had taken the trouble. He would have done it himself but then that would have raised questions, perhaps even offending them and him losing the trust he had built up over his incredibly short stay. It was amazing how gullible they were. Really.

"We just need to go in here to get your school books" said Lily, gently ushering him into, Harry glanced up at the name, Flourish and Blotts.

To say the shop was packed would be an understatement. Everywhere there were people, some reading avidly whilst others just simply stood looking bored. To one side were the parents, laden down with the rest of their children's shopping and looking like the day couldn't end quick enough. A snatch of blonde hair caught his attention and he focused on it. Lucius was standing to one side with Draco, Draco was probably fawning over yet another Dark Arts book. As if sensing he was watching, Draco turned and his eyes widened when he took in Harry's form. Lucius, seeing this, grabbed his son's arm and whispered to him urgently and the young man's eyes dawned with understanding, not making eye contact with Harry again. He knew this was part of his mission but Harry still couldn't help but feel a little sad that his childhood friend could ignore him so easily. Some of the Death Eaters joked that he had no emotion, but if they had ever seen him cast an Unforgivable they would know that that wasn't the case. No, he only reserved his emotions for those close to him and so it was like a slap in the face that one of those rare few would turn their back on him so easily. Another part of him however congratulated the young Malfoy. It couldn't have been easy to only hear about this now and yet he managed it excellently. Focusing on this, Harry caught up with his parents, they were of the minority that actually looked delighted at helping their child shop. Mentally rolling his eyes, Harry stood to one side, trying not to smirk at the apparent role reversal. Draco caught sight of this too because he smirked slightly at Harry when he left the shop, also, in some respect apologising for his earlier conduct no matter how necessary it was.

Mercifully they left soon and easily, thanks to the shield charm, carved their way through the crowd. Their last stop was the apothecary and Harry tried not to sigh in relief. He did however want to hex someone when he saw a gaggle of gingers exiting it and his parents walking towards them.

"Molly, Arthur" greet James, smiling at the two adults.

"Lily, James… Harry" replied Arthur, steeling himself before looking at Harry.

Ignoring this, Lily pressed on, "We're almost done, do you want to go to the Leaky Cauldron for a drink?"

"Of course that will be lovely, how about in twenty minutes? We still have to go to the Owl Emporium" said Molly, beaming at James and Lily, the smile faltering a little when it met Harry.

"Right come along children," said Arthur wearily. Turning away, the herd continued up the street, Harry could hear Molly screeching something to... Fred he thought it was.

"We just thought it would be nice if you got to know some people your own age now and not on the Hogwarts Express" explained Lily as they walked into the shop.

"Thanks mum, I appreciate it" said Harry, looking at his feet in what he hoped was a bashful way. Inside he was seething. It was obvious his parents wanted him to spend time with these... people at school. He had been told about the Weasley's, the notoriety for being blood traitors was well known amongst his father's followers.

Looking at some of the pickled horn toads he ran his finger along the dusty containers. He wondered if he would finally meet Severus Snape. His father had often talked of him, about the reports he compiled for him amongst other matters. Of course Severus wouldn't know who he was but it would be intriguing watching the man at work, to see how good a spy he really was. Inwardly smirking he could picture the shock on the man's face if he found out his true identity. Perhaps he would reveal himself, if it aided him in his mission. It would be useful having someone with whom he could confide in. Of course Severus would have to earn his trust and that in itself was highly unlikely. Then again he did have Draco, he was sure the Malfoy heir would understand his frustration with the façade, perhaps more than the Potions Master. Yes, Draco was a safer outlet.

"Harry we're ready to go" came Lily's voice, pulling his mind back from the Dark precipice. He would have time to muse later, for now, he had a part to play.

* * *

Harry decided that he would burn his clothing after setting foot inside the famous pub. The floor was paved in dark grey tiles, coated in the grime that the various 'customers' left behind. The walls were coated with panels documenting the establishment's - if you could even call it that - history. On one side there was a menu and one wall was devoted to a bar stand, a few midday drinkers already dipping their beaks into the stronger stuff. The air was heavy with the scent of alcohol and burnt cooking, one witch sat in the corner with a pipe clenched between her teeth, the smoke billowing out of it giving Harry the urge to curse his own nose off, or preferably her face. Schooling his features he headed over to the table of red heads, obvious even in the dark lighting.

It was then he saw her.

Her red hair shimmered in the light the candle on the table emitted and her cinnamon eyes sparkled with laughter at something one of her brothers had said. Her laugh itself was music to his ears as clichéd as it sounded. It seemed to draw him in, share it's joy with him, lifting his mood about the whole situation considerably. Shaking his head he regained his senses, pulling his mind back to the present.

"Hello Harry," said Molly, her face kindly as it surveyed him, "These are my children, Fred, George, Ron and Ginny. Fred and George own one of the joke shops here wanted to come round with us-"

"More like forced us to" grumbled Fred, the only difference from his brother was the name badge on his jacket lapel.

Ignoring them Molly continued. "Ron will be in your year and Ginny the year below."

Harry barely looked at Ron, his eyes trained on Ginny who was looking back at him, both in their own little world.

"You were the one that helped me" said Harry quietly, "I just want to say thank you."

"You're welcome" said Ginny, casting her eyes down to her hands which she had knotted together on her lap. His words however seemed to have started a thaw, the tension decreasing with each second. Lily and James smiled happily and began talking with Molly and Arthur at the head of the table, not leaving him but giving him some space nonetheless.

"So Harry, have you ever played Quidditch?" asked Ron, breaking the silence.

"No, I... wasn't allowed however I know the theory" said Harry, keeping his voice low and injecting some sorrow into it.

"When we get to Hogwarts I can teach you if you want?" suggested Ron, taking a sip of pumpkin juice.

"I would appreciate that" said Harry, smiling gratefully.

"Just watch out for McGonagall-" started Fred, Harry was thankful they had name badges on.

"She's a dragon-" continued George.

"Literally" finished Fred in all seriousness.

"She was only like that with you because you set a dungbomb off in her office" said Ginny, smirking slightly.

"She had it coming-"

"Said we weren't creative enough in transfiguration" finished Fred.

"Because setting off a dungbomb is creative" Harry couldn't help but add sarcastically.

"Well what would you have done?" asked Fred.

"Hmm perhaps transfigure her robes into something a little more colourful" mused Harry.

"I told them something similar but to be fair they are rather _special_ in the class work department" said Ginny, smiling evilly.

"For that-" started George.

"Baby sister-" continued Fred.

"You will-"

"Pay."

"I'd like to see you try" challenged Ginny, her eyes narrowing.

"Harry, sorry but we have to leave now" said Lily apologetically, placing her hand on his shoulder.

"It was nice meeting you" said Harry, standing up.

"You too Harry" said Fred and George in unison.

"I'll see you on the train" said Ron, his grin setting Harry at ease. Normally he was used to having to keep his wits about him, constantly on guard against double meanings but with these people he never had to be so tense. It only reminded him more how naïve these people were, there was always people out to get you and being as relaxed as them would get you killed.

"Bye Harry" said Ginny, sipping her lemonade.

Walking away Harry felt... strange, it was almost as if her was intoxicated. Angry at himself he forced the feeling down. Now was not the time to let his guard down, no matter how unthreatening they appeared to be. He thoughts instead went to Ginny. This was the second time his guard had went down around her. He was curious, what was it about her that made this happen? Why did she elicit this response from him? If there was one thing Harry never liked it was mysteries. He was almost glad he was going to Hogwarts, there he could explore it further without the watchful eyes of his parents. Ron seemed like a nice person, normally he mistrusted kindness but he could see that the red head would be no trouble. He was pretty simple minded therefore he wouldn't be much of a threat. No, it was Ginny he was intrigued by. She had displayed wit, intelligence, kindness, ruthlessness and a whole other myriad of emotions. Out of the two she would be the most problematic, the hardest to convince and this 'problem' just made it worse. Frowning slightly he wondered for the second time just what he had gotten himself into.

* * *

_A/N: Thank you for the feedback! I was hesitant in posting this as I'm having a bit of a confidence meltdown at the moment and nothing I do seems to be good enough! I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless :/  
_

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter._

_I apologise for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes contained within this chapter._

_Please Review!_


	7. Chapter 7

_'Reason has never failed men. Only force and repression have made the wrecks in the world.'_  
_~ William Allen White_

* * *

Smoke billowed from the gleaming red train, the dense fog making Harry squint, trying to discern the mass of shapes before him. Dragging his trunk behind him, he quickly got his bearings and went over to his parents. Lily's face was tear streaked and more flowed down her cheeks, clinging onto her eyelashes and making her eyes sparkle slightly. James was faring better, he had the brave look on. Harry knew that when he got home he would be beside himself but, for now, he was trying to stay strong for Lily. It was almost admirable the way he kept his composure, Harry found himself slightly raising his impression of the man. Only slightly.

"Harry, remember you can come home for weekends, I'm sure Sirius will want to see you. Remus told us to tell you that if you have any problems then just go to him. I know he'll be your teacher but he's also our friend and therefore yours," said Lily, wrapping him in a hug. Harry held her, feeling her shake as she lost her composure even more. He felt almost sad, however he could hear his father sneering at how pathetic a scene she was making. Pulling back he looked around and saw other parents involved in similar exchanges. If it was this common would it really be pathetic? No, he stopped that thought before it had time to bloom. You can't let them get to you.

"We're only a fire call away and I'm sure the Weasley's could help you in the meantime. I might be away on a case but your mother will be there, either at the house or hospital. Here," said James, fishing out a small square parcel wrapped in brown paper, "Sirius and I used it when we had detention, just say my name into it and you'll reach me."

"Thanks Dad," said Harry warmly, shaking his hand and stuffing the parcel into one of his many pockets.

"No problem kiddo, have a good term and cause as much mayhem as possible, you're part Marauder and you have a reputation to uphold," replied James, earning a smack from Lily.

"Listen to your teachers Harry, if your stuck they are the best aid, well except maybe the library," contradicted Lily whilst James rolled his eyes. Hearing the whistle Harry gathered this things.

"Guess I better get going then," said Harry lamely, getting one last hug before ascending to the train.

Students swarmed about him, shoving into him and giving him the urge to break things. They were like animals the way they tried to find friends or the best compartment. He felt himself be swallowed up in the sea of them and dragged along helplessly. Feeling someone grab his arm he was thrown a lifeline and pulled into a compartment. Defences raised, he felt his fingers curl around his wand before realising that it had been Ginny. Immediately he felt soothed and looked around the rest of the compartment. Aside from Ginny he also noted Ron, a slightly chubby boy with a toad, a girl with dirty blonde hair and a dazed expression and another with frizzy brown hair, her nose tucked in a book. Moving his trunk to the side, he took a seat by the window next to Ron, immediately cursing himself as he realised that was opposite Ginny.

"Harry, this is Neville, Luna and Hermione," said Ginny, indicating each person in turn. Harry was partly listening, partly watching from the corner of his eye the way her lips brushed together as she talked, her voice making his heart beat slightly faster as he realised how close they were.

"What house do you think you'll be in?" asked Neville, placing his toad in the wicker basket next to him.

"I don't really know," hedged Harry, knowing that his desire to join Slytherin would not be welcomed in a group of Gryffindors.

"What house do you want to be in?" asked Ron.

"I don't know much about them to be honest other than the standard description, father never told me," confessed Harry, twisting the sleeve of his robe nervously. They seemed to buy his uncertainty and he mentally smirked.

"So it is true then," said Neville, awe ringing in his voice, "You were raised by You-Know-Who". Everyone seemed to look up at this, even Hermione, her brown eyes peeking over her book and gazing at him warmly, understandingly.

"Yes, I never knew I had parents until a few days ago," whispered Harry.

"That's so sad," said Hermione, her eyes glistening slightly. The atmosphere had become sombre, no one quite sure what to say.

"Well Harry at least you know now, I can't imagine what it would have been like to have been enslaved by that monster," said Ginny, her voice loud as it pierced the silence, the barrier dropping between them and conversation beginning once more. Harry however felt hot rage fire through his veins at this, skilfully controlling his expression and looking out the window. It angered him that Ginny would insult his father in this manner, everyone else he understood but her! Why would she…

_Why would she think any different?_

_Why would he want her to?_

His mind threw these questions back at him, the rage extinguished to be replaced with icy cold. It enveloped him, different from Lily's hugs, filling him with dread and guilt. It lapped at him, caressed his skin traitorously as it pulled him further into the anguish.

He was changing.

Steeling himself, he thought back to his lessons. What his father had taught him. How could the cleverest wizard alive get it wrong? He was just confused, thrown into an environment where he had to adapt to survive. It would make sense that he would need time to acclimatise, to separate the act from himself.

"Harry are you okay?" came Ginny's voice. Looking up he saw her cinnamon eyes were full of worry. Mentally taking stock he never noticed any cracks in his mask.

"Yes I'm fine, why?" asked Harry, looking at her unable to stop himself admiring the way her hair shone in the light.

"I would have thought you would be nervous," came her simple response.

"Oh, well I guess I'm a little," replied Harry, a little shocked, these people cared to much it appeared.

"You'll be fine, I remember when I first came. I was really nervous too but all you have to do is try on the Sorting Hat," said Hermione.

"The Sorting Hat?"

"It looks into your mind and assesses your qualities," explained Ginny.

"Daddy thinks it was created by the Elven mages for Gryffindor," piped in Luna, returning to her magazine that Harry noticed was upside down. Ignoring it, he smiled at them and turned back to the window.

The Sorting Hat would see what he was really like? Harry felt worry pool in the bottom of his stomach and gnaw hungrily at his intestines. If the Sorting Hat could get past his mental shields his mission would be very, very short. But surely his father had thought of everything? No, there was no question about it, he wouldn't send Harry into the Lions Den unprotected somehow and for some foolhardy effort. Yes, he would be fine. He had faith in his father and his father had faith in him. He would be fine.

"We're almost there," said Neville, rummaging in his trunk for his robes. The girls got theirs and headed to the bathrooms, giving the boys privacy to change. Harry was glad that he had already changed and just sat staring out the window, seeing the castle looming over the tree line. It truly was beautiful, the lights contrasting against the dark sky making it appear homey and welcoming. Once again Harry was reminded of how deceiving the Light could be.

Pulling to a stop, they exited the train and Harry was once again bustled about. A rough voice called first years towards it and Ron told Harry to follow it. Apparently rowing across the lake was some sort of rite of passage, one that Harry was not looking forward to. The others went away to the carriages, looking closer Harry saw that they were being pulled by thestrals, their silky black coats shining in the moonlight.

"Ye' must be Harry," Harry recognised the gruff voice and looked up to see what could only be a half giant. He was smiling friendly at him, his black eyes twinkling happily as he took in Lily and James's lost son.

"Yes," replied Harry.

"You'll ge' a boat of yer own, just follow th' rest 'o 'em," Harry found it hard to understand him but caught the gist of it. Stepping in a boat, he saw the nervous first years do the same, gawking at him when they noticed his presence. He had to smirk at the looks on their faces when the boats powered themselves, it almost made it worth having to do it himself. Many awes were heard when the castle fully came into view, before he had only been able to see the turrets and so it was now he got the full picture. His father had been right, it was huge. The old stone was laced with magic, mingling with Harry's own as he sped closer. It was almost as if the castle itself was welcoming them, more a sentient being than just a building.

Coming to a halt, he disembarked, climbing elegantly out of the boat. It was easy to see the mudbloods from the purebloods. The mudbloods stumbled out the boats whereas the purebloods moved more elegantly like himself, not as practised but gracefully enough for their age. Climbing the stone steps they entered the castle, again more gasps as a ghost glided past them. Harry rolled his eyes, spotting Professor McGonagall instantly. James had told him she would be severe, her lips pursed as she surveyed the new pupils. Seeing him, she waved him over and, slowly, Harry approached her.

"Harry, it's a pleasure to meet you. I can't say how overjoyed I am that you are back with us. You will head the line so that you can be sorted first. It isn't normal to get such a late starter but everyone is aware of your circumstances and so you shouldn't get much hassle," said the Professor, a smile breaking out on her face. Harry tried not to sigh, he had hoped that no one would really know of his origins but he should have realised that that was a secret that could never be kept buried for long. He'd have to work around it, now others would judge him before they knew him so he would have to act twice as hard to 'prove' he was Light.

With the train of first years behind him, McGonagall opened the door and walked in, when she was at the staff table he followed, feeling peoples eyes on him all the way. Finally he got to the head and sat on the three legged stool. McGonagall brought out a shabby looking hat, a wide rip at the brim that Harry supposed was the mouth. Did this mean everyone would hear or was that only to let them all know his house? Feeling trapped, she placed it on his head.

* * *

_A/N: Thank you for the feedback! I'm not used to so many reviews for one chapter so I was blown away. Thank you for boosting my confidence in this story and myself - I know that sounds cliched but I was seriously having problems with my writing so I apologise if I was whining. This chapter came more easily so please keep the reviews coming! :)_

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter._

_I apologise for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes contained within this chapter._

_Please Review!_


	8. Chapter 8

_'We cannot solve our problems with the same thinking we used when we created them.'_  
_~Albert Einstein_

* * *

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The hall erupted in cheers, the lions roaring with pride as a new one was brought into their midst. Harry felt the hat being taken off his head, the nudge from McGonagall towards the table that was rejoicing the loudest. He saw the delighted look of Ron and Hermione, surprise lingering beneath their happy tones. The rest of the sorting went by smoothly, at one point he thought the hat was singing but dismissed it, his mind too busy feasting on the what had happened to pay much attention.

He had become a lion, a Gryffindor, the very thing his father detested.

A part of him wanted to credit it to his acting, his performance having been so convincing that it had tricked the magical head wear. He desperately wanted this part to win, but he had been raised to ignore wishful thinking and that was exactly what that solution was. No, to him it backed up even more what he had sensed on the train. He was changing, mentally becoming like them. Scanning his pale fingers he never noticed any difference. There was no gaping sign, evidence of his changing allegiance. He knew he was being stupid, there would be no physical manifestations of his mind's troubles. Part of him felt alien though, that he had sprouted scales or some other abnormality.

Looking up, he nibbled at his food, not even able to remember what he had piled on his plate. Ron was chatting animatedly to Hermione, flecks of food firing from his mouth that he could see she was trying to ignore. The chatter at the table was almost deafening, the babble incomprehensible to his ears. It was quite simple:

He was out of his depth, and he hated it.

He was accustomed to silence at dinnertime, there was no small talk and there was absolutely no noise of this level. His father liked his peace, as did Harry. Being here he felt akin to a deer in headlights, not knowing what to expect and feeling incapable of adapting. He normally was able to anticipate things, but here everyone was so rash that this was rendered redundant, all his traits he had accumulated over the years useless.

Harry wondered how his father would react to his heir being in Gryffindor. He would probably be tortured, his allegiance needing to be proved to the Dark all over again. He hadn't forgotten what happened last time his loyalties had been held in suspicion.

* * *

_"Harry," his father's voice was like honey intermixed with poison. The hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood on edge. He knew this wasn't good. This was his first Death Eater meeting, it was only to be expected that he make a mistake. This however, did not get rid of the animalistic 'fight or flight' response._

_The rest of the Death Eaters filed out, glancing at him, their expressions ranging from pitying to smug. He would crucio the smug ones later._

_"What is it father?" asked Harry, once they were alone. Voldemort sat on his customary throne, higher up than the Death Eaters. It was intimidating and the grey stone wall did nothing to ease his discomfort. Normally he felt safe in here. Not today._

_"How dare you disrespect me like that in front of them," hissed his father, his eyes flashing._

_"I am sorry that I offended you. Please tell me my flaw so I can avoid it in the future," Harry looked at his feet, trying to show subservience._

_The crucio hit him quickly, stunning him and making him fall to his knees. He felt as if his bones were twisting, reaching breaking point but not shattering, going past what he thought was the extreme and into a whole different realm. His skin was on fire, boiling his blood that raged through his veins, infecting other areas. He knew he should be used to this. It wasn't the first time this had happened, the difference was the other times he had been prepared._

_The curse was lifted. A brief reprieve._

_"Do not call me father in front of them. I am your Lord," sneered Voldemort, raising his wand arm again. The pain was back but this time he was expecting it. Opening his eyes, he blinked through the haze, seeing past the agony. His father was tall, his robes billowed as his magic swirled around him. His eyes were shining, manically almost but all Harry saw was magnificence. The way he just radiated power, it was infectious and he wanted to feel it for himself._

_And then it was over, his father was pulling himself up, half supporting him to the steps. Relief flooded his body as his father murmured healing spells in his ear._

_"I am sorry I had to do that Harry. Do not forget this as I will regret having to do it again," said Voldemort, straightening himself up._

* * *

Taking a sip of Pumpkin juice Harry tried not to wrinkle his nose. His father was right, he had not forgotten it. The two hour session he'd had with Wormtail had also dealt with the residual after affects that spells couldn't cure.

"Harry?" he managed to discern Ron's voice from the babble.

"Yes?"

"Are you okay?" asked Hermione, her brown eyes filled with worry.

"Yes, I'm fine," replied Harry, confused slightly by them picking up his melancholy mood. He never expected Gryffindor's to be able to read these things, preferring rowdiness to analysis of body language.

"You just seemed a bit out of it there mate," said Ron, concern also flooding into his voice.

"Its just a bit of a change," he replied, looking around the hall to show what he meant.

"I felt like that when I first came here," said Hermione, her eyes softening as she relived the memories of her first year. There was also sadness amidst the fondness that hindsight brought and Harry wondered what she was seeing.

"I'll get used to it," said Harry, noticing that they were now onto desert. Looking amongst the dishes his eyes quickly honed in on the treacle tart. Claiming a slice, he ate it with more gusto than anything else he had consumed that night. That is until_ her_ voice was registered by his senses.

"Harry, its good to see you're in Gryffindor," he glanced up and saw Ginny smiling at him before plopping down in the space next to him. Suddenly the room felt stifling and he found himself wishing he had taken off the robes, many of the students had deposited of them already.

"It certainly wasn't what I expected," said Harry truthfully, the first truth he had spoken that evening.

"Normally people don't get what they expect," said Ginny, biting into her strawberry cheesecake.

"Look at the Patil twins, Parvati is in Gryffindor whilst her sister Padma was in Ravenclaw," interjected Hermione.

"How does it decide though?" asked Harry.

"I asked dad that once. He said it was based more on personality, our core traits than how our minds work. Minds can change, we cannot change at the heart of our being," said Ron, the looks he got at this told Harry that this level of wisdom wasn't usual from the red head. However it also told him that he would have to watch him more carefully, random bursts of insightfulness were more dangerous in their unpredictability.

A small hand squeezing his arm made him jump. It felt as if warmth was shooting from this point, radiating out before ensconcing his whole being. This was different from last time, he felt light-headed but complete at the same time. It was... Strange. Strange wasn't good, it couldn't be good. Looking into her cinnamon eyes he realised why it felt so abnormal.

She understood.

He raised his mask, the easy smile slide from his face, hidden behind the wall of coldness. He knew it was unfair to her, but this had to stop. Her eyes met his empty, dark ones and widened before realisation dawned.

The contact ceased, he was free.

He let go of the breath he hadn't been aware he was holding. As he exhaled, his mind seemed to come back to itself, achieve some semblance of normalcy. He tried to ignore the fact that his heart was racing, that people were staring.

"Sorry, I'm not used to physical contact," to him the lie was feeble, but to the Gryffindor's it made perfect sense. To them he wasn't saying he was uncomfortable, he was just saying he wasn't used to it and would need time to accustom to it. Really he was just wanting her to back off, to leave him and allow himself to get back to being his father's son. He quickly squashed the objections to this, preferring for now to remain in denial. He would have to face it, but he wasn't ready, now was not the time.

Dumbledore stood up from the Staff Table, thankfully distracting him from his thoughts as the food vanished. "Now you are all fed and watered its time for bed. Don't stay up too late catching up, there will be no leniency for falling asleep during lessons tomorrow. Goodnight."

The sound of footsteps filled the hall, blending into one. Harry almost missed the chatter.

"Oh Harry, I almost forgot. As Head Girl, Professor McGonagall asked me to show you to the Common Room and make sure you get around alright. Is that okay?" Hermione looked genuinely elated to hold such a trivial title.

"Yes, that's fine," said Harry, saying a small goodbye to Ginny and following Ron and Hermione out of the hall.

"Gryffindor first years, follow me," yelled Hermione. A few minutes later a gaggle of pupils came up to them, Harry recognised a few from the boat trip. The trooped up the stairs, almost getting stuck on the third floor if a staircase hadn't came by to help them, before stopping in front of a portrait of a woman. She looked down at them, her warm features smiling happily at the sight of the new students.

"Fortis," Hermione announced and the portrait swung open, revealing the Common Room.

The first thing that hit Harry was the sheer abundance of red and gold. It was like there had been an explosion and the colours coated every surface they could reach. A fire crackled merrily in the hearth, the flames licking the grate as they devoured a log. Two armchairs and a settee surrounded it, with various tables and chairs littering the rest of the room. Two staircases were at the furthest end, one marked boys and the other girls. He let the first years go up first, their inane talk irritating him slightly but not enough to make them want to hurt them. He could understand their awe after all.

Hermione went up to her dormitory after Ron promised to show Harry where to go. Harry tried not to roll his eyes at this. For a seemingly clever girl, she seemed to think him as dependent as a baby on her. To his amusement he thought he heard Ron mutter something similar as they climbed the stairs.

After being introduced the other boys in their year, Harry quickly got changed before clambering into his bed. It was unusually comfortable and he felt his weary muscles relax slightly. The others muttered goodnight to him before closing their curtains and plunging the room into darkness. He did the same and laying back onto his pillows, he sighed, content to go into a dreamless sleep, too tired to worry about tomorrow. He felt almost normal, forgetting his mission for a moment as thoughts of the day swirled through his mind.

All feelings of normalcy were shattered however when his left arm tingled slightly, reminding him of his task.

* * *

_A/N: Thank you for the feedback! I'm not too happy with this chapter, I've never particularly liked writing Great Hall scenes, so I hope its satisfactory. Sorry for the wait, life intervened and I was focusing on finishing another story. I want to make it clear that he isn't changing, he's more conflicted with being introduced to ideals different from the ones he has been raised with and its confusing him, Ginny isn't helping either ;)  
_

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter._

_I apologise for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes contained within this chapter._

_Please Review!_


	9. Chapter 9

_'Mind guides the soul to a view of true reality which nourishes and benefits the soul.'_  
_~ Plato_

* * *

Come mid September, Harry just wanted to go home. Some of his house weren't as sympathetic as his classmates, and it took every ounce of willpower to refrain from hexing them. The Slytherins on the other hand were more his sort of people. Many never knew how to act around him. The son of the Dark Lord was relatively unknown to those whose fathers were not in the inner circle. It was advantageous to have allies with him, but their almost 'hero worship' of him was not helping his credibility with Dumbledore. He chose to ignore them most of the time, and the only Slytherin who never treated him as if he was actually the Dark Lord was Draco. His childhood friend had helped him immensely throughout his stay. It allowed him to blow his frustration out onto the blonde, and he would mention his usefulness to his father.

Severus Snape, however, was only one word 'greasy'. In one class with the man, Harry could see why his father had chosen to keep his existence a secret. The Potions Professor was not trustworthy. He never knew how he had figured this out. Perhaps it was the way he kept looking at him, or more his eyes, and when he saw the Potter traits he would make a snarky comment. He loved Lily, or at least there was some emotional attachment to his mother. His mother was Light, however, and so he would not confide in this man.

He had finished all his homework. It was more a step down than up from his father's teachings. Hermione had looked at him, disappointment in her eyes, when she saw he had finished the fifteen inch essay on vampires so quickly. He had been there when his father had recruited them.

_Lord Ventrel, this is my heir Harrison Riddle," said his father. Harry looked steadily at the magical being. His face was pale, chiselled almost, and his long raven hair was tied back. His dark navy cloak was fastened with a large brass clasp with had a crest on it - two tigers holding up an ornate 'V'. Apart from that all Harry saw was slender legs encased in tight black trousers and tucked into dragonhide boots. He looked regal, and Harry straightened his posture._

_"It is a pleasure to meet you Master Riddle," replied Ventrel, smiling, revealing sharp fangs whilst extending a pale hand. Shaking it, Harry marvelled at the texture. It was as if he were made of marble, and obsidian eyes scanned his face, waiting for a reaction. He got none._

_"Ventrel, have your council reached an agreement?" asked his father, directing the vampire's gaze back at him._

_"Yes, Count Firelli presented fierce opposition, but he was… dealt with," said Ventrel delicately. Coldness radiated from the man, and it was only Harry's upbringing that made him almost immune. The opponents, however, would not be so lucky._

_"Good," said Voldemort, "Harrison will dictate the finer details of the contract, and I wish you a safe journey home". His father rose, sweeping from the conference room._

_They managed to get swiftly through the details, and Harry watched as the vampire signed his name, binding him to the magical contract. The parchment furled up before bursting into flames, the fire twining round Ventrel. He chuckled, darkness dripping off the sound, and Harry felt the first stirrings of unease. Escorting him to the front gates, Harry smiled at the creature._

_"It was lovely meeting you, have a safe journey," Harry offered his hand again. This time, however, Ventrel flipped it over, running his smooth fingers over the blue veins he found there. Withdrawing his hands, his tongue darted out, licking the tips of his fingers. Tasting him. That was all he did, however, and frowning, Harry watched him as he left._

He recalled that day, it wasn't long ago, perhaps a month or so. The vampire's behaviour had confused him, but he hadn't told his father. Growing up around the Dark Lord, one had to be tough. He was tough, and he would ignore it. Shivering slightly, he was startled to find that he was back in Hogwarts. He had gotten away from Gryffindor tower, and was now - he looked around - somewhere near what appeared to be the Astronomy Tower. Heading up the stone spiral staircase, he ran his fingers over the rough bricks, feeling dust and sand dislodge as he did so.

Breathing the fresh night air, he looked over the dark grounds. He could see thestrals, moving in the forest's tree line. Their dark coats glistening in the moon's harsh light. Stars twinkled above him, their crystal coldness, not warming him up. An icy chill seemed to have settled in his bones, freezing him from the inside out, and wrapping his cloak around him tighter, his ears picked up on footsteps, slowly climbing up the stairs.

"I knew I would find you here," came the familiar drawl of Draco.

"Did you now?" asked Harry, not turning to greet the Malfoy heir, instead watching as a flutter of crows flew from the forest, their cawing echoing in the night. He felt the hairs of his arm rise as Draco erected a silence shield.

"It isn't that hard once you get used to it," the gentle voice took him off guard.

"I am not finding it hard," said Harry, his hand gripping tighter to the guard rail.

"And the bags under your eyes are a product of a restful nights sleep!" He turned to face his friend, feeling the familiar mask break slightly.

"It is a little more difficult than I had envisioned," he lied.

"And now you want to know how I manage it," finished Draco, smirking a little.

"Yes, that would be useful," replied Harry, smiling in spite of himself. Draco always knew what he needed… what he was to stubborn to admit that he needed anyway.

"There isn't really a way. Just remember that no one can see you in the confines of your bed. You can't pretend all the time, or else you risk changing yourself."

"Since when did you become so knowledgeable?" asked Harry, chuckling slightly.

"You'll find that living amongst the Light changes people," said Draco grimly. Just then Harry felt a seething pain shoot up his arm. It was as if molten lead had been poured down it, and rolling back his sleeve he saw his tattoo had emerged, the red eye of the snake eyeing him critically.

"_I need to see you, just touch your mark and whisper my name_," hissed the snake, his fathers voice coming out of it's small mouth.

"_Of course, father_," replied Harry. Turning to Draco, he saw the blonde look at him, his silver eyes containing a hint of worry. "Draco, father needs me, I must leave now."

"What should I say if anyone asks?"

"Say I got lost and am wandering the halls trying to find my way back to the common room," said Harry. Needing no more instruction, Draco made his leave. Looking at his mark, Harry touched the snake's back, stroking it slightly before whispering "_Voldemort_."

He appeared in the conference room. His father and Lucius sat at the head to the vast table. No one else was in attendance, and so Harry took a seat on his father's left.

"Harry, welcome home," hissed Voldemort, smiling down at him.

"Thank you, father. I confess I have missed this place in my absence," said Harry, smiling back.

"Lucius here has had an idea. Since you are our operative in Hogwarts it will be up to you to enact it," said his father.

"What is the mission?" asked Harry, getting down to business.

"In Dumbledore's office, there are certain documents pertaining to the Order of the Phoenix and their agents in my operation. If you can get your hands on this then we can find those within our ranks who are spies and use them in any way I see fit."

"But can't you already detect who are the spies?" the words were out before he realised, and he felt the sharp sting of a cutting hex across his right arm. Bundling up his sleeve he staunched the bleeding, looking at his hands as he waited for what his father would say next.

"I do not have time to go through all our ranks. If the Order found out I was on to them, then they would get their operatives out and our chance would be lost," hissed his father angrily.

"I apologise father, I did not think," said Harry automatically.

"According to Lucius they are in Dumbledore's office. He was so clever as to place a tracing charm on them when Kingsley had them in the ministry, but this was neutralised when they were taken within the Hogwarts boundaries as Dumbledore felt they were no longer safe."

"I shall try and retrieve them for you," said Harry quickly.

"Good, now I need you to go back to Hogwarts before anyone realises you are gone. If I collect anymore information to the whereabouts then I shall inform you" said Voldemort, grabbing his arm and placing a cold finger to his mark.

Back on the Astronomy Tower, Harry shuddered for a moment before heading back down the spiral staircase. Part of him couldn't help but wonder how his father thought he could pull this off. Dumbledore's office was most likely the most protected room in the castle, and getting in there alone would be a miracle. Moving quickly through the corridors, he froze when he heard someone call his name. Fingering his wand, he turned and saw Ginny by the statue of Velmar the Vicious. Her red hair gleamed in the moonlight, shining through the grimy windows. She looked pale and worried, and Harry felt what he supposed was guilt stirring in the pit of his stomach.

"Harry, there you are!" she smiled as she approached, and he returned one, albeit it tentative.

"Sorry, I got lost," he murmured.

"Yes, Malfoy mentioned something like that to Hermione," the way Ginny said this, he guessed his friend had been less than kind about his 'predicament'.

"Sorry if I worried you," he said, as they turned to walk down the corridor.

"It's fine, I'll have to call the search off though," she laughed.

"That is rather embarrassing," said Harry, running his fingers through his hair.

"Wait, you're bleeding," said Ginny concernedly, grabbing his arm and rolling up the sleeve. Harry had almost forgotten about the cut, his system was too full of adrenaline to really focus on the pain. Looking at the bleeding gash, he cringed at how he would explain this.

"Did Malfoy do this to you?" she asked angrily, running her wand down it. His arm felt like it was full of pins and needles, and unpleasant sensation, but the wound faded and moments later was only a small pink scar.

"Yes," said Harry reluctantly, his friend was going to get hell for this.

"Bastard, we'll get him back, don't worry," assured Ginny.

"I can fight my own battles," he said coldly, the warmth cascading through his system contrasting with his tone.

"I never meant…"

"It's fine, thank you anyway," said Harry hastily.

They had reached the Gryffindor portrait hole by now. Letting Ginny in first, he tried not to groan when he saw the people grouped in the common room.

"Harry, are you okay?" asked Hermione, rushing over to him.

"I'm fine, just really tired. Sorry about all this," he gestured to the group of students who were barely awake.

"Don't worry about it. We'll let you get up to bed, just next time ask one of the paintings and they'll be able to help," replied Hermione.

"Don't go near Sir Cadogan though," interjected Ron, "He'll have you running all over the school on some quest of his."

Harry laughed, but the laugh quickly turned into a yawn.

"Come on guys, lets get to bed," said Ginny, ushering everyone to their respective staircases. Throwing her a grateful smile, he climbed up the staircase, trying to push all his thoughts of the night's events away. But as he lay in bed, his mind filled with the thick fog of sleep, he had not dreams of his mission or his father, but of Ginny.

* * *

_A/N: Thank you for the feedback! Sorry for the late update, life caught up with me and I'll try not to make it too long next time. Also the flashbacks are designed to show you Harry's life with Voldemort, to give more insight into his background and contrast it with Hogwarts, they aren't just random. _

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter._

_I apologise for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes._

_Please Review!_


	10. Chapter 10

_'It doesn't matter which side of the fence you get off on sometimes. What matters most is getting off. You cannot make progress without making decisions.'_  
_~Jim Rohn_

* * *

Sitting in potions, Harry gave his cauldron a half-hearted stir. It was supposed to be an acid green, instead it was navy and as thick as tar. At least he was doing better than Ron, his friend had managed to turn his pink, and currently Hermione was scolding him for adding Lacewing Flies instead of Essence of Lilydrought. His excuse was that they both began with an 'L' but even Hermione could see that that was weak. It was evident that they both liked each other, and he was doing this just to be close to her. Personally Harry couldn't stand it. It was almost nauseating the dopey-eyed looks he gave her. His mind snapped to Ginny. He would never treat her like that, like some simpering fool. Not only would she hate it, but that attitude was beneath him. He would never be the type of person to give her flowers. He imagined what she would look like if he gave her a bouquet of roses - red of course. She would probably be delighted to receive such a gift.

He froze.

He was not thinking about her like that. He knew what romance was, but the idea was repulsive. Not only did it hinder you, always making you think of someone else before yourself, but it made you vulnerable, and vulnerability could not be tolerated.

Harry thought back to his dream. He guessed that was why he was so distracted. Normally he couldn't remember them, treating sleep more as a time to shut down, not escape into some fantasy world of the mind's imaginings. However, a few nights ago he had dreamed about her. One dream was not enough to spawn ridiculous... he searched for the word... feelings. No, it was best not to act on it.

In his dream she had came to him. Told him that he never had to be alone. Enveloping him in her arms, she had whispered in his ear that she loved him. But he wasn't alone, he had his father, and love was weak.

Love could get you killed.

Still, it was interesting. Was this what had happened to Snape? Had he fallen in love with Lily, making him struggle between the Light and the Dark? Was he looking at his future? The sallow skinned man was bent over a cauldron, his nose sniffing the purplish fumes it was emanating. Neville truly was a walking disaster. Seeing the sneer on the older man's face, he decided that that would not be him. He wouldn't allow feelings to get in the way of his mission.

Glancing back at his potion. He threw in some crushed Manticore claw, hoping that would turn the treacly liquid into - he glanced at the board - green and watery. There was no way that was happening.

"Mr Potter," the name fell off his lips like it was something particularly nasty, "What is this?"

"It is a potion, sir," answered Harry, looking into the glittery black eyes of the Potions Master. He couldn't like the man, in fact it seemed he was going out of his way to antagonise him. If only Severus Snape knew who he was, then he would think twice before baiting him. Normally he wouldn't have risen to it, but normally he would have a somewhat okay potion. His teacher's eyes narrowed at this blatant insubordination.

"Mr Potter, it appears you have forgotten your manners," sneered Snape, looking at his potion in distain.

"Professor Snape, it appears you've forgotten your teaching skills. If you believe that merely writing instructions on a board is enough to make people pass, then you are in the wrong profession," replied Harry. Everyone in the class grew silent, all ears honing in on the confrontation. It was abnormal for Harry Potter to talk much, let alone mouth off. He wasn't sure where the words had came from, and he was just as shocked as the rest of them.

"Detention, Mr Potter. Report to my office tonight at seven," snapped Snape, spittle flying from his mouth. Harry tried not to cringe.

Now that it was over, the class returned to their work. Hermione shot him a worried whilst Ron grinned at him. Hmm, he wondered where that outburst had came from. It was… concerning to say the least. Now he had a detention because of it. Well the homework he had been assigned today wouldn't take long, it was only a mild inconvenience, but annoying nonetheless.

* * *

Cutting up his pork, he half listened to the chatter around him. They had been late getting back from Care of Magical Creatures. Really, he didn't understand how they could make Hagrid a teacher here. The big oaf had let the hippogriffs escape from the pen, and it had taken half an hour to round them up. Madam Hooch was still helping with the ones that had flown away, along with some members of the Quidditch teams. The disorganisation of this place was beyond him.

"Hey Harry, I heard Snape gave you detention," Ginny had somehow managed to sit next to him without him realising it.

"Yes, he somehow found fault with me questioning his teaching methods," replied Harry, smiling slightly.

"I really don't see why, in fact I think that was a compliment looking at his skills!" laughed Ginny. Her laughter was music to his ears. He felt something stir within him, and realised that he too felt... happiness at her remark.

"From what I've seen so far I have no idea why Dumbledore lets him teach here. However, I sympathise for you. It must be hard having him for five years, I've only had him for a few weeks and I detest him."

"I've heard that he owes Dumbledore, but apart from that I have no idea."

"Hmm, it must be something big. Maybe he's here because he ate a student and this is his penance," the joke was out before he could stop it.

"Why Mr Potter, was that a joke?" asked Ginny, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Indeed Miss Weasley it was," replied Harry, matching her speech patterns with perfect accuracy. Beyond all logic, he was having fun.

"Do you have a temperature? Do you want to go to Madam Pomfrey?" asked Ginny, mock concern colouring her tone.

"I think I'll survive telling one joke," scoffed Harry.

"Hmm you look a little pale," persisted Ginny.

"I forgot to tell you I'm part vampire," said Harry dryly.

"A vampire that likes green beans," she laughed.

"Pythagorean philosophers thought they contained a bit of the universal soul, and therefore they nourish us."

"Anyone who looked at a Defence textbook would know that was wrong!"

"Actually it depends on the type of vampire. My father researched and found out that different clans required different nutrients. This enabled them to live together in relative harmony. Some fed of blood, others soul, and some managed to adapt to animals instead of humans. In fact it is thought that some of the soul devouring vampires are related to Dementors."

"You're just was walking encyclopaedia, can I have you in my exams?"

Looking at her bright face, Harry realised just why he liked her. The others would constantly not know what to say to him. They were afraid in case they would encroach on 'painful' memories of his father. Ginny on the other hand never cared, not that she was insensitive, but it was nice to be treated like an equal, free to say and do as one liked unafraid of the repercussions of seemingly innocent phrases. Ginny took it in her stride, whereas if he had told the others, then an awkward silence would have descended as they searched for a 'safe' topic. Seeing her gaze turn questioning, he realised he hadn't responded yet.

"I'm afraid not, I promised I'd help Luna."

"Dammit," grumbled Ginny.

"Sorry, I'm too popular for my own good," he checked his watch, "Speaking of popularity, I need to go meet a certain bat."

"Good luck, he doesn't bite… I think."

* * *

The detention had been horrible. He had been up to his elbows scrubbing cauldrons, and as a result his robes had gotten a hole in them when it became apparent that not all the cauldrons contained 'friendly' potions. Snape hadn't even batted an eyelid at this, instead telling him to work faster. If it hadn't been for his conversation with Ginny earlier, then he thought he might have hexed the man. Instead he thought back, keeping his mind busy as he pondered his increased levity around her. It was indeed perplexing. Even if he did have romantic notions about her he should at least be able to control them. Instead it seemed to have a mind of it's own, turning him into a jokester when he was anything but. Hmm, on one hand he could ignore her, keep his distance, but even as he told himself that he knew it would arouse suspicion. A small part of him rejoiced at this excuse to keep her company. Only a small part, he lied to himself.

Entering the Common Room, he moved past the fireplace, the embers were dying, just further proof of how long he had been in the dungeons. Part of him was amused at how cold it was down there. Maybe there was a relation. The Slytherin's were kept in a dungeon, it was cold and they were deemed cold and calculating by the rest of the school. Gryffindor Tower was hot, and practically all the Lions he had met so far had been hot-headed morons. Well, only some, his mind corrected. Perhaps temperature indicated temperament. It was interesting at least.

Everyone in the dormitory was asleep. They had all had a busy day, and so this wasn't out of the ordinary. What was out of the ordinary was the parchment lying on his pillow. Picking it up, he saw long, slanted handwriting.

_Harry,_

_I have been made aware by Professor Snape that you were given a detention. Please come up to my office tomorrow at the start of fourth period, Professor McGonagall has already been informed that you will miss the start of her lesson._

_See you then,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

He had his chance.

* * *

_A/N: Thank you for the feedback! Sorry for the late update, I had exams. Thankfully they are finished now :D As you can see we're at a turning point, Harry has figured out his feelings towards Ginny, now he just needs to act on them! I'm trying to make this transition slow, please tell me what you think :)_

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter._

_I apologise for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes contained within this chapter._

_Please Review!_


	11. Chapter 11

_'By the time a person has achieved years adequate for choosing a direction, the die is cast and the moment has long since passed which determined the future.'_  
_~ Zelda Fitzgerald_

* * *

Knocking the on the aged door, Harry stood back, waiting to be granted entrance. Hearing the words 'Come in,' he entered the office, immediately taken aback by how colourful it was. Where his father's study was bare, only filled with the necessary equipment to get work done, this place was filled to burst with trinkets of varying sizes. Some were clustered on the table next to the wide window, whereas others were stuffed in shelves that looked as if they were only held up by magic. Looking out, he could see a view of the lake, a hippogriff swooping low over the sparkling water, dipping it's talons into it as it went.

It was Friday, and after this meeting, he was expected to go to his parents house. They had been writing to him daily, the family owl Prosperpina delivering thick scrolls filled with information about themselves, and their lives. Through these he had gotten an insight into his 'family' and he almost pitied them. They were so full of hope that they would be a happy family, that he would be a dutiful son. Part of him wanted to see the looks on their faces when it was discovered he had betrayed them, but another, smaller, part of him felt a twinge of guilt. These people had been nothing but naïve, was this a crime punishable by death at the hands of his father?

He was still struggling to answer that one. Normally he would have said 'yes' straight away. However, since he had come to know them better, he could see that they genuinely thought they were doing the best for him. They had thought their son was dead for sixteen years, that had to bring with it some baggage, but instead of making it awkward, they tried their best to help him fit in. It was nice, but it was also stupid. He remembered his first thoughts as he got to know them. He believed them stupid, and ignorant. He was angry that they would have sold him to the cause as his father had told him. However, he was having some doubts about that now. The people he had met had been nothing like what his father had described. He knew that they could be trying to lull him into a false sense of security, but somehow he doubted that this was the case here. Dumbledore, well obviously he would be suspicious about the old man, but his parents just blindly followed his orders.

And then there was Ginny.

From what he had been told, the Weasley's were inbred, moronic fools, with hardly any galleons to their name. Now, even though the latter was true, he couldn't say that Ginny fit any of the former adjectives. She was sweet, brilliant, and understanding. She knew to look past his flaws, and really see_ him_. Ron was certainly moronic, but he had his heart in the right place, and he too cared for Harry. It was strange being around touchy-feely people all the time, but to them they had always lived like that. Just because their outlook was different from his father's did not mean they were bad people. Not really.

However, he still had to follow orders. Family was family. Although the Potter's were his biological family, Voldemort had raised him, and he couldn't leave his side. Some things are thicker than blood, and he was indebted to the man in a way he wasn't to the Potter's. Without his help he wouldn't be the man he was today, he wouldn't have the advantages he had now.

He owed him, and debts had to be repaid.

"Harry, it has come to my attention that you were given a detention from Professor Snape," said Dumbledore, ending Harry's musings and bringing him back to the present. He could feel him trying to enter his mind, and was thankful his father had taught him Occlumency - yet another reason why he couldn't betray him.

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore," replied Harry, taking a seat in front of his desk.

"Is everything alright? You have a clear record across the board, this is the first sign of disrespect you have shown, was there something that prompted it?"

"Everything is fine, sir," said Harry automatically.

"If there was something wrong, you know you can come to me," assured Dumbledore, and Harry felt another nudge at his mental barriers.

"I know, thank you sir-"

"Professor Dumbledore, th' hippogriffs have escaped again!" said Hagrid, bursting into the office. He was panting slightly, and it was evident that he had ran all the way here, "Could ye' help me round 'em up, it wis so much quicker wi' yer help last time."

"Of course Hagrid, I'll be right there. Harry, could you let yourself out? Have fun with your parents, and I don't want to hear you getting into anymore trouble," said Dumbledore, before rushing out the office with Hagrid.

Alone, Harry tried not to smirk. That was too easy, far too easy. Waving his wand, he couldn't detect any safeguards on the room against theft, and so gingerly made his way round the desk. His father had said it would be in the office, now he just had to figure out where, and the desk seemed a good enough place to start.

Rummaging through the files, and general clutter on his desk, Harry found nothing, instead moving to the drawers. All were open except one. Using some of the spells his father taught him, he opened the drawer with ease, sifting through everything before coming across a report. Its cover was blank, and pulling it out, Harry looked through it, seeing the names of members of the Order and their current position in a large table. It appeared to be self-updating, as Nymphadora Tonks went from being in Voldemort's study, to the dungeon. He never knew why his father had recruited her, the woman was a complete klutz. However, according to him having a metamorphmagus in their ranks was a good thing, and Harry had kept his mouth shut.

Quickly he made a duplicate of the report, placing the real one back in the drawer and locking it once more. Looking at his watch, he saw that it was almost lunchtime. He had promised Lily and James that he would be home by then, and so shrinking the duplicate report, he stuffed it in his pocket before heading out of the office.

* * *

"So, how's school son?" asked James, buttering a roll. Lily had made them potato and leak soup with the help of their house-elf Bitzy. Unlike the house-elves at Riddle Manor, this one was free to do as she wished, helping Lily with the chores instead of doing them all herself. It was a strange relationship, and almost reminded Harry of Hermione's attitude to house-elves, except not as severe. He couldn't deny though, the soup was good.

"Not too bad, Snape gave me a detention though," said Harry, knowing how this remark would go over.

"What did you do, give him shampoo? Sirius and I used to do that all the time at Hogwarts," laughed James.

"I may have criticised his teaching method," replied Harry, finishing the last of his soup. It had only been when he had walked in the kitchen and smelt the heavenly aroma that he had realised how hungry he was.

"That's my boy!" said James happily, ruffling Harry's hair. Lily looked at him disapprovingly, but stayed quiet, the amusement glittering in her eyes telling him all he needed to know.

"Harry, we've invited Ginny round for dinner, if that's alright with you. Molly told us that you seem to have grown close, and so we thought you would like it," said Lily hesitantly, unsure whether or not she had made the right call.

"Thank you, I do enjoy her company," said Harry, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. Next they would be planning a wedding.

"Up until then, what do you want to do?" asked James, swallowing the last of his soup.

"Well, I would quite like to take a walk by myself, to get acquainted more with this place, I hope you don't mind," lied Harry.

"Of course, if that is what you want to do then don't let us hold you back," said James, smiling slightly, "I'll call Sirius and Remus, we can have a few games before dinner."

"No drinking, James," warned Lily, "We all remember what happened last time."

"What happened?" asked Harry, grinning. James just grew even more uncomfortable with this line of questioning, and looked like he was trying to become one with the chair.

"He rode Sirius through the graveyard," said Lily, her lips twitching as she tried not to smile, "I have pictures."

"No, I refuse to let my son see me like that," said James, trying to get control of the situation.

"I'll show you them later," promised Lily, gathering up the dishes.

Harry took this moment to duck out, aware that James still had more to say on the matter. Moving through the garden, he took note of the neatly trimmed lawn, with privet hedge and white picket fence. It was a cosy front garden, and as he opened the gate, he saw a butterfly skim over the flowers, planted beneath the windows. From the outside, the Manor was small. James's grandparents were sick of the lavishness of their ancestors, instead opting to make the house appear to be a small cottage, disguising the multitude of rooms inside. Harry liked that idea. He felt that a Manor, or a castle was too ostentatious, but his father never agreed. To him it was a show of power, to Harry, it was to make others feel inadequate.

Walking down the small street, he soon saw the graveyard that Lily had mentioned. Inside lay a crumbling church, a remnant from times gone by, and weeping willows were planted around the perimeter, shielding the graves from the elements. He really wanted to see that picture, but right now he had more pressing things to do. When he thought he was far away enough from the house, he dissipated, appearing moments later outside Riddle Manor.

Unlike the Potter's house, the Manor was tall and imposing, and Harry felt like he had shrunk as he entered the aged building. Walking swiftly down the corridors, he came to Voldemort's study. Even if he never knew where it was it wouldn't have been hard to find. Harry could practically feel the wards pushing him away, and it was only when he showed his 'special' mark that they enveloped him, accepting him as one of their own.

Knocking, he waited a moment before the door opened by itself. Stepping inside, he saw his father was at his desk, surrounded by rolls of parchment. There was even a chair next to him filled with scrolls. Looking up, he saw his eyes darken in pleasure.

"Ah, Harry. Have you finished your mission so quickly?"

"Yes, father. Inside this file are the names and positions of all the members of the Order," said Harry, handing the folder to his father. Part of him couldn't help but compare this welcome to that of James and Lily's. They had asked how he was, hugged him like he was their son, instead here he was treated more like a servant. The contrast was unsettling.

"Good," hissed Voldemort, "You have done well my son."

"Thank you, father. Is there anything else you will require?"

"No, not at the moment. I will call you if anything comes up. Now, I need to continue with this, could you show yourself out?"

"Of course. Goodbye."

Closing the door behind him, Harry felt dread pool in his stomach.

Had he done the right thing?

Had his father always treated him that way? Perhaps it was only because he had something to compare it to that it bothered him now?

No matter, the past was the past, it was done, and as he made his way to the exit, he tried to ignore the guilt slowly seeping into his system.

* * *

_A/N: Thank you for the feedback! Sorry for the late update, life got in the way again, but now I'm free of exams and school! Yay! I wanted to include some of Harry's observations on both sides in this chapter, show him warring with himself on who was right. To me it's only natural that he would be questioning things after seeing how different Voldemort's stories were to reality. I wanted to include Lily and James here, as I realised we haven't seen that much of them - we'll also be seeing more of the graveyard photo in the next chapter *evil grin* Also, did anyone think him getting the report was too easy...? Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, and please take the time to review :)_

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter._

_I apologise for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes contained within this chapter._


	12. Chapter 12

_The confession of evil works is the first beginning of good works. _  
_~ Saint Augustine_

* * *

Apparating back outside the church, Harry walked aimlessly through the graveyard, he had a few minutes to kill. The day was getting slightly cooler, and he wrapped his jacket around him a little tighter. There was a slight breeze, bringing with it the scent of flowers left at the graves of the dearly departed. The church loomed before him, and ducking inside, he saw a priest up at the altar, lighting the candles. The flickering lights seemed so warm, and Harry felt a shiver run through him. This place was holy, and he was less than pure. His actions showed that.

Walking down the aisle, part of him wondered what he was doing. He had heard of God before. The religion of Christianity that had taken over half of the world. They had started out small, just one cult in Rome, before gaining a foothold in the Roman Empire, and at Constantine's baptism on his deathbed, had converted the mighty Empire to their religion, leaving the old gods forgotten. His father had often spoke of it, wishing his could emulate the religion in his takeover. The people loved the idea of God, despite the blood spilt in his name. Voldemort wanted the same thing, but he would easily settle for being feared as well.

Sitting down on one of the pews, Harry looked at the frail man lighting the candles. His gait was slow, and it was obvious that he was weak. Still, there was something beautiful about his piety. He had devoted his life to his God, and that was worthy of respect, even if Harry felt nothing towards the belief himself.

"My name is Father Michael, can I help you child?" asked the man, seeing Harry sitting there, staring aimlessly at the stained glass windows. They were beautiful, the saints looking down on him, their expressions serene. Somehow Harry felt they could see him, despite not really existing, and his stomach coiled with guilt under their gaze.

"I am quite alright, thank you," he replied, glancing at the kindly old man.

"Then why do you look so troubled," came the response.

"I am not troubled," said Harry automatically.

"I have seen many people enter this church, their hearts heavy with guilt. You are no exception," said Michael, taking a seat next to him.

"I do not need absolution," replied Harry coldly.

"I never said you did," said the man mildly, "Now what troubles you boy?"

He seemed like such a nice man. He never knew Harry, he never knew who he was, he was just a person who wanted to help him. Suddenly Harry felt the need for this man to understand. To see that it wasn't his fault, that he too was a nice person.

But he wasn't, his earlier actions had shown this.

"I've just betrayed my family," said Harry finally.

"Why did you do it?"

"I, I had to, all my life I've thought that the Dark side is good, I was raised to believe it, but now these people drop into it, show me other ways. I don't know what to think. If I did his bidding, got him the information he wanted, I wanted to know if he would accept me like those people did. He never, and I've just given him the means to destroy them," said Harry, his voice hollow, and his eyes stared at the floor.

"You're one of those magic ones aren't you?" asked Michael.

"How do you know?" asked Harry, looking up at the older man, his fingers curling round his wand.

"I've lived here almost fifty years, in that time you notice a few things," answered Michael, smiling at him.

"I can't help but think I've done the wrong thing. I thought he loved me, and now I can see he's treating me more as a servant. I'm not his son," said Harry, feeling desperation seize his heart.

_What had he done?_

"You did what you did thinking it was the right thing. Now all you can do is learn and try to do damage control, Harry," said the man,

Terror gripped Harry at this, and he produced his wand from his jacket pocket, pointing it at the man, "How did you know my name?"

"I always knew there was something different about you, that you could be redeemed, Harry. I hadn't thought it would be so soon, but sometimes I can be mistaken," said the man, not caring that a wand was pointed in his face.

"Stupefy!" yelled Harry, watching as the beam of red light was negated. All the man did was raise his hand, and it was at this Harry knew who he was dealing with.

"I have spells alerting me whenever something is removed from my office without permission, Harry."

"Why the disguise, Professor?" asked Harry, seeing his teacher appear before his eyes, the priest melting away and revealing Albus Dumbledore.

"You would hardly have told all of that to me, now would you?" said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling slightly.

"No," answered Harry reluctantly, "I take it you're going to send me to Azkaban now?"

"Of course not dear boy, the list you gave Voldemort was fake, it is inconsequential," came the surprising reply.

"I've betrayed you all," said Harry quietly, his voice taking on the hollow sound again, "I deserve to be punished."

"I think everyone's reactions will more than suffice," said Dumbledore, his eyes turning to ice for a moment.

"They're going to hate me," whispered Harry, feeling his eyes burn.

He had lost two families today.

"They will be angry, yes, but answer me one question. Will you go back to Voldemort?"

Harry was speechless for a moment. His father, the man who raised him, would he turn his back on him? Would he aid in his demise? Remembering his last meeting, the way he had been treated, Harry initially thought yes. However, thinking back to his childhood, it hadn't been bad. Had it?

"He wasn't a bad father," confessed Harry, pulling at a thread on his sleeve.

"Harry, he tortured you when you made the slightest mistake. He taught you to kill at a young age-" started Dumbledore.

"I enjoyed killing," whispered Harry, "The power it gave me, for a moment I was free from hate. It was wonderful."

"Have you been filled with hate during your stay here?"

"No, after I met Ginny-" started Harry, feeling his shoulders relax at the thought of her.

"You love her, don't you Harry?" asked Dumbledore, smiling for the first time in their encounter.

"Yes," his voice was rougher than usual, but for once he never saw it as weak, it was only natural.

"Your father taught you love was weak, do you agree?"

"No, if someone hurt her I would do everything in my power to avenge her," replied Harry, if anyone even touched a hair on her head, he wouldn't rest until he found them. If anything, love made him more powerful.

"Then I think you have your answer," said the Headmaster.

* * *

_A/N: Thank you for the feedback! Sorry this is late, I'm going to try and update once a week now that I've got more free time on my hands. I don't really know where this chapter came from to be honest. I had planned to have Ginny in this chapter, but then the idea of the priest came into my head, and then the idea of Dumbledore being the priest, and it just grew into this giant monster that I couldn't control. I hope you liked this chapter, I know it's short, but it's one of my favourites :)_

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter._

_I apologise for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes contained within this chapter._

_Please Review!_


	13. Chapter 13

_"If there is something to pardon in everything, there is also something to condemn."_  
_~Friedrich Nietzsche_

* * *

"Sir, how did you know I would betray you?" asked Harry, wrapping his jacket tightly around him. The wind had picked up, almost as if it was trying to push them back to the church... to keep them away from Potter Manor. Harry had to agree with the element, but Dumbledore hadn't relented, and so he found himself half stumbling through the graveyard with bits of leaf and grass blowing in his face. His father would have a fit to see his heir behave in such an undignified manner, but he wasn't his heir anymore. He didn't` answer to him now.

"The memories you showed me back at Grimmauld Place were fake, from that point on I knew your purpose," replied Dumbledore, his fast gait betraying the grandfatherly image he displayed, and Harry was having trouble keeping up.

Looking to the sky, he saw that it had darkened, obsidian clouds hovered above them, crackling with barely suppressed fury before releasing their rage. The rain fell hard and fast, pelting the gravestones, and church, the sound of their impact creating a drumming noise. Harry saw more akin to a ticking clock, however, as the time of his confession drew nearer. Feeling the cold from the rain permeate into his bones, he shivered slightly, Harry Potter, heir to Lord Voldemort vanished, instead replaced by a young man, cold, and needing absolution, although he doubted he would get it. He deserved this, and when Dumbledore offered him sanctuary underneath the mauve umbrella he had conjured, Harry refused.

As the water washed away every remnant of the man he had been since his mission had began, Harry felt normal, like he belonged here. Whether his family saw it, he never knew, but he had picked a side. Looking around, he saw raindrops drip off the willows, crying along with the sky, and Harry wondered if these were tears of joy or pain. Feeling his eyes burn once more, he allowed himself to cry too, the rain masking any grief he chose to show.

He cried for his father. The man who raised him, and had become so lost in the idea of power that he was willing to abandon everything. He cried for his family. The people who had so kindly took him in, knowing who he was, but not treating him any differently because of it. He cried for himself. For having to chose sides in an almost impossible situation, and seeing that what he had once thought to be true, were in fact lies, fed to him in an effort to make him a weapon. But most of all, he cried for Ginny. The sweet girl, who despite everything stood by him, showing him what it was like to be normal, and caring for him in ways no one else had before. He had let down everyone, and if Dumbledore noticed his anguish he never said anything, merely sitting them down on a bench underneath one of the trees until he was finished.

It was the first time he had cried since he was a child, and when he opened his eyes, he saw the truth. There were no more lies to hide behind, his tears had washed away any pretence that nothing had changed, and now he had to deal with the consequences of this choice.

"Sir, why did you take me in? You knew I was a horrible person, that I would only sell you all out to the Dark Lord. There was no reason to keep me," asked Harry, his voice rough, but thankfully Dumbledore ignored it. He needed a distraction, something to prevent his mind tormenting him about his misdeed.

"You deserved a chance. When I saw you with Ginny, I saw the man you could be, and he needed the opportunity to come out," said Dumbledore, after a pause.

"I failed your expectations then," replied Harry, tracing a raindrop as it fell down his hand, clinging onto his fingertip before falling onto the muddy path.

"No, you didn't, Harry. I highly doubt that anyone would have done anything differently when placed in your situation. You never understood, you were raised on hatred and lies, the important thing is that now you know the truth," said Dumbledore, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"We should go back now," said Harry finally, mustering up all his courage before getting to his feet. Seeing Dumbledore smile, he wondered if he could make the man proud yet.

* * *

"We were starting to get worried about you, Harry," admonished Lily gently, seeing Harry's dripping form grace the doorstep, "Get out of your wet things, I've got a Pepper-Up potion in the medicine cabinet, I'll have it ready for when you come back… Albus, what are you doing here?" Dumbledore had chosen at this point to make his presence known, and Harry internally cringed, wishing he could be anywhere else but there.

"There are a few things Harry and I need to discuss with yourself and James," replied Dumbledore, drying himself off with his wand, before doing the same for Harry. Lily's confused expression turned to one of concern in a heartbeat.

"Is everything alright?"

"I'll leave that for you to decide," said Dumbledore, "May we take this conversation to the lounge?"

"Of course, but Sirius, Remus, and Ginny are here, is that alright?"

"Yes, yes, it won't be a bother," came the reply, dashing Harry's hopes. His parents were going to be hard enough without company to deal with. His thoughts rested on Ginny, and he felt his heart plummet even further. He would be lucky if he got out of this alive at this rate.

James and Sirius were sitting on the couch, with Remus and Ginny in the armchairs. It appeared that the Marauder's were telling her of some of their 'exploits' whilst at Hogwarts, and they were met with a chorus of laughter when they entered.

"And then, McGonagall came up and asked 'Mr Potter, would you like to explain why my hair is red?'"

"What did you reply?" asked Ginny, grinning slightly.

"I may have tried to convince her she was part demon," replied James, earning more laughter.

"James, we have a visitor," said Lily, amusement glimmering in her eyes at the sight of her husband. It was still strange to see the old James Potter, not unwelcome, but strange nonetheless. Hearing his laughter reminded her of better times, and she felt him drag her into a good mood just by listening to his joy.

This good mood was ended when she saw how uncomfortable Harry looked.

Despite Dumbledore's reassurance, Lily knew that something big had happened. Part of her wanted to chalk it up to 'a mother knows' but seeing Harry's tense posture was the equivalent of a neon sign saying there was something wrong.

James saw it too, and his relaxed posture became strained, the laughter freezing on his face. Standing up, he offered Dumbledore his seat, and the aged wizard accepted with a 'Thank you'. Glancing at Harry, she saw he looked too wary to sit down, and part of her was reminded of how he was when she first saw him again after all that time. Now wary herself, she felt the tension in the room thicken as one by one the occupants became aware that they were missing something.

Seeing Ginny's eyes land on Harry, Lily saw the familiar warmth she often saw in James's eye, and she tried not to smile. They were meant for each other, and she found the similarities between herself and James to the young teenagers amusing. It appeared Potter's really did have a thing for red heads, and not even a psychotic megalomaniac could erase that compulsion. However, she also noticed concern flash in Ginny's eyes, and Harry focusing on the floor, not able to look at her or anyone else.

"Albus, what is wrong?" asked Lily, determined to find out what was causing her son pain.

"Harry, I think you should tell them," said Dumbledore, looking as calm as ever, a stark contrast to the atmosphere in the room.

As Harry spoke, Lily felt her eyes burn slightly. Her baby boy had been made to do so much for that man, and now here he was, finally opening up to them about it. She never cared that the documents were now in Voldemort's hands, all she really cared about was that he had seen the error of his ways. It hadn't gone unnoticed by her that day in Diagon Alley, that Harry had trouble with coping with people. She had seen the revulsion on his face when a witch had crashed into him, the barely restrained fury, and from that moment she had known that he wasn't fully theirs yet, that he still carried Voldemort's taint.

Now, however, she saw a nervous young man, withdrawn as if expecting a rebuke any minute. The anguish in his voice as he told of the realisation about Voldemort coupled with the defensive stance broke something inside Lily. This was their boy, not the man they had been seeing before now. Looking over at James, their eyes locked, and in that moment they both understood, through a connection that went beyond husband and wife, what to do.

As Harry came to the end, he seemed to close in on himself further, and Lily approached him, James by her side. Embracing him, she ran her fingers through his hair, feeling him lean heavily on her. It had taken him a lot to tell them this, and he clung to her desperately, worried in case he would be torn away.

"Shhh, it's okay, Harry. We forgive you," murmured Lily, holding on to the shaking boy tightly.

"Your mum's right, son, there's nothing to be ashamed of. You did what you thought was right," reinforced James, wrapping his arms around both of them.

"I betrayed you, how can you be alright with that?" asked Harry, his voice muffled.

"Harry, no matter what you do we will love you," whispered Lily.

"Listen to your parents, Pup," said Sirius, and Lily wanted to hug him too.

"Yes, Harry, no damage was caused by this," said Remus.

"Thank you," said Harry quietly, withdrawing from their embrace. Lily saw emerald green eyes bore into hers, searching for some hint of a lie. He looked rejuvenated, younger, than he had been the previous times she had seen him, and now Lily understood how heavy a burden this would have been to bear. Roaming James's eyes, she saw he reached the same conclusion, before standing back.

"I, I need to be alone, please excuse me," said Harry, heading upstairs to his bedroom.

Watching everyone else in the room, Lily never saw anger on anyone's face, all she saw was understanding, and it warmed her heart slightly.

"That's the Harry we lost sixteen years ago," said Sirius, pride radiating in his voice.

"Do you think he'll be alright?" asked Remus, eyeing the staircase warily.

"I'll go and check on him," said Ginny, speaking for the first time since Harry had confessed. When she disappeared up the stairs, Lily turned to James, smiling slightly.

"Are you okay?" she asked, scanning his face. He looked tired, but Lily could see the relief surrounding him.

"Yes, we knew something like this might happen, I'm just glad he told us," replied James, clasping her hand and squeezing it slightly.

"Me too."

"I'll take my leave, I daresay there is something at Hogwarts which requires my attention," said Dumbledore, smiling benignly at everyone, before disapparating with a sharp crack.

"We should head off too, I'm sure you all have a lot to discuss," said Remus, giving them both a hug.

"Yeah, is it okay if we come round tomorrow though?" asked Sirius.

"What are you thinking?" asked James, grinning slightly. Lily just rolled her eyes, it was obvious James already knew, it was like they were telepathic.

"Three-a-side Quidditch?" said Sirius, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"You're on," agreed James, shaking hands with his friend, before Sirius and Remus disapparated.

Now alone with each other, Lily wrapped her arms around James's waist, pulling him into another hug. Feeling his hands run down her back, she smiled, relaxing into his touch.

"Are you really okay?" he asked, running one of his hands through her hair gently.

"It will take time, are you?" whispered Lily.

"I will be, it's just a lot to take in," confessed James.

"I know."

* * *

_A/N: Thank you for the feedback! I think I should explain the POV change. In the previous chapter, and this one, I showed Harry's internal emotional response to confessing, and so writing it again would just be a repeat. Using Lily, I wanted to try and portray why they are so understanding, and show that they weren't as stupid as Harry originally thought - they knew something like this could happen all along, they just never let on. Personally I think their reaction here is the most realistic, I don't think James and Lily would disown him or be really angry, the list was of no consequence (which is why it was so easy to get to), and it's his response to it that is the most important - a test from Dumbledore so to speak. Harry has responded well, showing true remorse for his actions, therefore he has passed, and is now becoming Light. I hope that makes sense, Dumbledore generally has his way of testing people, so I hope this is plausible - I think this is the longest Author's Note I've ever done! _

_Next chapter, Harry and Ginny's conversation - I haven't forgotten about them!_

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter._

_I apologise for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes contained within this chapter._

_Please Review! I'm really nervous about this chapter :/  
_


	14. Chapter 14

_'You can't force someone to love you. All you can do is become worthy of love.'  
~ Unknown  
_

* * *

Harry gazed out of the window, tracing the raindrops falling down the darkened panes of glass with numb fingertips.

They had forgiven him.

The thought was almost overwhelming, and the fact sent him reeling. Why would they forgive him? He had turned his back on them, betrayed them to their potential destroyer. He deserved punishment, not hugs and spiels about forgiveness.

Flopping back onto his bed, he saw the window continued to cry. The rain wasn't letting up, in fact he thought it was getting stronger, pelting the manor with frosty gems of water. His room was cold. The fire had been extinguished long ago, but he never lit it. If they wouldn't punish him, then he ought to make himself miserable. Pay his penance through his own means.

Closing his eyes, he wished he could see something more than the faces of loving family and friends. Hurtful words would have been better. This was something he never understood, it was hurting him, making him feel worse than he had when he had brought Dumbledore here. It took him a moment to realise, but he felt ashamed, tainted, and wishing to repent for his sins in ways his parents wouldn't allow. If Voldemort were in their place he would have crucio'd him, the feeling of his blood burning distracting him from the guilt of betrayal. The splintering pain as his muscles spasmed, crushing his bones, making him feel as if he had suffered enough for forgiveness to be acceptable. He hadn't suffered enough under the Potter's, not nearly enough.

"Harry?" Ginny's questioning voice was like balm to his wounds, soothing the raging animal that wished to tear his flesh from his bones. Anything that would take away this suffering, and make him feel better.

"Ginny, I'm surprised you want to see me," his voice came out bitter, harsh, and he tried to drive her away. Her soothing presence was helping none of his atonement. However, she never left, or took umbrage before storming down the stairs before renouncing him as a traitor. Instead, all Ginny did was sit next to him, wrapping her arms around his slender frame, and holding him close. His befuddled mind soon realised that she was comforting him, taming him like one would an animal.

"Harry, of course I would want to see you. I know what you're going through." These words shocked his system. How could pure, sweet Ginny know what was going on his his mind?

"How?" he asked, his voice slightly hoarse, trying to rein his emotions in.

"I was possessed by Voldemort once. Under his control I did terrible things, unleashing a monster on the students, and killing one of them. When it was time for me to be disposed, I was commanded to go to the Chamber of Secrets, the monster would consume me as well, but Dumbledore saved me. Afterwards, all anyone did was say they forgave me, that it wasn't me who did it. However, possessed or not, _I _did those things, and no one was angry at me, they all understood. It infuriated me at first, before I realised…" she trailed off.

"Realised what?" he asked, prompting her to go on. Her body was trembling, and he knew she hadn't told anyone else this. He was the first she had confided in. He knew of the horcruxes, of the incident at Hogwarts, his father had taken particular glee at that, before punishing everyone when it went sour. The fact that it was Ginny embroiled in that mess, made his heart alight with anger, only adding to the myriad of emotions coursing through his weary mind.

"I realised that they were only doing it because they loved me. No matter what my body… _I_ had done, they would forgive me because they loved me."

"But it doesn't make sense! How can one emotion override so many?" asked Harry, relishing her warmth around him even though he knew he shouldn't. Her hair smelt flowery, and he breathed it in, well aware that this could be the final time, that Ginny would soon see what he had done and flee.

"Because love is what ties us together, and is only more powerful during wartime. Without love, there would be no balance to the hate. Hating, and not forgiving doesn't help someone move on, and create a better impression to those they love and who love them in return," whispered Ginny, and he could feel her breath tickle the back of his neck.

"What do you see me as?" asked Harry, the question hovering in the air. It was now or never…

"I see you as a young man, fed lies all your life, and, by acting on these, hates himself on discovering their falsehood," said Ginny. Again this was why he loved her. She spoke the sharp truth, and normally he would hate how cutting they were, but today he allowed the blood they drew to flow freely, absolving him just a little bit more of his sins.

"You see me as redeemable? That I'm not beyond redemption?"

"I believe that no one is beyond redemption, but whilst wanting others forgiveness - which you have, by the way - you must also learn to forgive yourself," her hand slithered down to his heart, feeling its steady beat, "You are human, therefore you are fallible."

Harry placed his hand over hers, tracing patterns on her soft skin. Truly he had never felt so safe, encased in someone's arms. She placed her head on his shoulder, sending him a heated glance. With that one look, the air seemed to electrify. It pulsed, wrapping its tendrils around them, ensnaring them in its charm. Sitting up, Harry moved next to Ginny, running a finger down her cheek, checking to see if this was really happening. It seemed childish, but really, how could someone love him right now? Despite Ginny's reassurances, he doubted everything. Was everyone just showing him a mask of what he wanted to see?

Ginny, seeing his inner turmoil, took control. Leaning in, Harry only had about a second before their lips crashed together. Moving in sync, Harry tangled his fingers in her fiery tresses, feeling the silky strands run through his hands. Ginny's arms wrapped around his waist, pulling his closer, giving him a sense of security he had only known in these past few minutes. Melting into her embrace, he felt her do the same, and quickly the kiss became heated. Parting her lips, he invaded the moist cavern that was her mouth, all delicacy forgotten as need overtook him. He needed to forget, to feel safe, and she needed to help him, using him as a way to get past her own trauma as well as his own. Raw passion hovered in the air, claiming to two teenagers, bringing them together in a time when they most needed each other, and they were helpless to refuse. Finally, when oxygen became a problem, they broke apart, panting slightly, but still embracing. Moving his hands down to her shoulders, he held her in his arms as she was him, both falling heavily onto the bed, and both startled by the electricity crackling between them.

There was no need for words, both knew the other just needed to lie there, to feel loved. The sound of her soft breathing filled Harry's ears, and he moved his hand, hovering just over her heart. It was beating quickly, and he marvelled that he had brought about this reaction in her, that she could love him enough to provoke a physiological response. She did the same, resting her hand on his chest, both drawing comfort from the steadily slowing beats as they went back to their normal rhythm.

Harry never knew how long they lay there, his mind blissfully blank, focused only on the present. The hours ticked past, and soon he became aware that the rain had stopped, it was still dark, but it made the room seem slightly warmer, only more so by Ginny's presence.

"Harry?" her voice broke the silence, ringing out, and bringing him back.

"I know what I have to do," he said shakily, unknowing when he had decided that this was indeed the right course of action. However, she was right, he had to prove he could make a better impression, to make him into the man who deserved the beauty that lay contentedly in his arms. It might kill him, that he was well aware, but if it redeemed him in her and his eyes, then it was worth it.

* * *

_A/N: Thank you for the feedback, I'm overwhelmed by how involved people are getting in this story. I'll admit, I choked up a little at this chapter which has never happened to me before - bit worried about that actually. I know it's short, but making it longer would spoil it in my opinion, and I honestly don't want to change it. I hope you have enjoyed this chapter, I'm sorry it took a while to get out, I've been focusing on another fic - my aim is to get all of my ongoing fics finished by the end of August... wish me luck O.o  
_

**_IMPORTANT NOTE: It's my birthday next Sunday (31st July same day as Harry... is it sad that I'm really happy about that? XD) and so I won't post again next weekend. I'll try to have another chapter up a few days after though :)_**

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter *sigh*_

_I apologise for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes contained within this chapter._

_Please Review!_


	15. Chapter 15

_'Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.' _  
_~Lao Tzu_

* * *

It felt strange, sitting in this office, telling Dumbledore of his father's innermost secrets. The portraits were all listening, some looking sceptical whilst others smiled at him kindly. Finally, when he had finished, he looked up at the Headmaster, his eyes having been glued to the floor throughout the confession.

"Harry... are you sure you want to do this?" Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling, and it took Harry a moment to place the emotion swirling in them as happiness. It lifted his guilt slightly, and he knew this was the right thing. It was the only way to prove to his parents... and Ginny... that he had changed... that he would no longer work for Voldemort.

"Yes, Sir. If I wasn't then I wouldn't have came," said Harry confidently, seeing the glimmer in Dumbledore's eyes brighten.

"How would you suggest the best way to get to the horcruxes are?"

"I would say just you and I. We do not know where Voldemort's spies may be lurking, and if the student populace found out mass panic could ensue."

"Where are they hidden, and what enchantments are there?" asked Dumbledore, resting his chin on steepled fingers.

"In the cave, there is a basin containing the locket, the liquid concealing it must be drunk. The potion makes the drinker re-live all their worst memories, before making them want water so badly, that they will go down to the lake before being claimed by the inferi. This is the most advanced protection. Voldemort relied on Gringott's security to protect the cup, and the diadem is in a room only he knows the location of."

"I have leverage in Gringott's and so I'm sure I can retrieve the cup. As for the diadem, there is a myth amongst the house-elves of a Come and Go Room, or more eloquently, the Room of Requirement, few have stumbled upon it once, and even fewer a second time. Those we can deal with first, however, I must insist we go to the cave together," Dumbledore paused, rummaging in his desk before pulling out a paper bag. After a quick selection, he popped what appeared to be a lemon drop in his mouth, extending the bag to Harry.

"No thank you, Sir. I'm sure if you get me a house-elf I can dispatch of the diadem within the hour," said Harry.

"Of course. Now, is there a way to bypass the potion in the cave?" asked Dumbledore, looking satisfied with Harry's proposal.

"Voldemort only ever thought a wizard or witch would be able to find the cave. Because of this, he has left house-elves and other magical creatures able to penetrate the wards."

"Dobby," called Dumbledore out quietly. A sharp crack filled the room, and Harry came face to face with a house-elf unlike any other house-elf he had seen before. He had what appeared to be a tea cosy on his head, along with a knitted maroon jumper that reached his knees. On his feet were mismatched socks, one a mustard yellow, and the other patterned with snitches.

"Dobby was freed from the Malfoy's by your friend Ronald Weasley in his second year," explained Dumbledore, amusement entering his otherwise serious expression.

"Master Dumbledore, Sir. How can Dobby be of service?" asked the elf, his green eyes brimming with happiness at being called by the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

"Dobby, this is Harry Potter, I want you to show him the Room of Requirement if you will."

"Of course, Sir. Master Harry Potter, Sir, please follow Dobby." Harry said goodbye to Dumbledore before following the elf.

"I have heard a lot about you Master Harry. Is it true you were in the service of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?" asked Dobby, as they made their way through the castle.

"He was for all intents and purposes my father," replied Harry stiffly.

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named raised you! Please do not take this the wrong way, Sir, but that is surprising to hear."

"And why is that?" Either the house-elf was oblivious to his cold tone, or it had been free for too long. Harry suspected it was the latter.

Dobby looked mildly surprised. "Because you're good."

"I've done bad things," he murmured, feeling the elf's gaze land on him.

"No, Master Harry Potter, you have done good things, even thought others may think they are bad!" Dobby pressed his index finger into his forehead as if to emphasis his point.

"I hadn't thought about it that way," mused Harry. Oddly he found himself liking the elf, he was a little too enthusiastic, but he seemed alright.

"Wizards focus too much on here," Dobby made a frantic motion with his hands that Harry took to mean the environment, "Than here," once more he pointed to his head. "Ah, here we are, Sir! Is there anymore you will be expecting of Dobby?"

Harry had almost walked past it, and narrowing his eyes he wondered if Dobby took him to the wrong place. Although his mind recognised that that was impossible, once ordered, a house-elf had to comply, and this elf clearly served Dumbledore, be it through free will or otherwise.

"How do you get in?" Harry felt stupid for asking the question, but the house-elf looked delighted to be needed.

"You walk past three times, and think!" he answered triumphantly.

Walking back and forth, Harry thought confidently:

_'Show me the place where the diadem is hidden.'_

_'Show me the place where the diadem is hidden.'_

_Show me the place where the diadem is hidden.'_

After the third time, a door became to appear, spreading like moss on the blank canvas that moments prior had been a wall. Dobby acted as if this was perfectly natural, and Harry remained impassive, not alerting the elf to how awed he was. To have hidden something so masterfully was beautiful, and Harry felt his appreciation of Hogwarts grow slightly.

"Wait for me here," he ordered, grabbing the brass handle and entering the room. Broken and damaged furniture was stacked in piles, shelves of discarded books lined the walls, and odd statues and paintings littered what space they could find. It was boggling that so much stuff could fit in one room, but as Harry meandered through the junk, his magic fixed onto something. Going deep within his mind he realised it to be another magic source, and going even deeper he realised it was the magical signature of Voldemort.

The trail led him to a cabinet, inside was a bust of a wizard, a pink wig and diadem on his head. It would have been comical, if not for what that diadem contained. Gingerly, Harry lifted it up, feeling the magic thrum as it recognised its handler. It seemed happy, and Harry felt a tiny stab of guilt, but not enough to make him stop.

Making his way back, he met Dobby outside, the elf grinning at him, and greeting him with a 'You're back, Master Harry!' before walking back to Dumbledore's office in silence.

Dumbledore must have been expecting him back quickly, for the gargoyle immediately jumped aside, allowing him access to the spiral staircase. Just before he knocked, he heard Dumbledore say "Come in, Harry. Bring Dobby with you."

Once inside, Harry was surprised to see the cup of Hufflepuff sitting proudly on the Headmaster's desk. The ornate 'H' gleamed in the soft light, and Harry saw Dobby's eyes widen as he too spotted it.

"I hadn't thought you would be able to retrieve it that quickly, Sir," admitted Harry.

"The goblins owed me, and they pay back their debts in full," said Dumbledore cryptically. "Do you have the diadem?"

"Yes," replied Harry, placing the diadem next to the cup, whilst Dobby moved to the corner, seeing he wasn't needed for the moment.

"I read that only basilisk venom or fiendfyre will result in their destruction," mused Dumbledore.

"Fiendfyre is unstable at best, and unless you have basilisk fangs in your drawer, I highly doubt we can destroy these just now," Harry couldn't help sarcasm leaking into his tone.

"I never told you how one of the other two horcruxes was destroyed. Ron Weasley ventured into the Chamber of Secrets to save his sister from the horcrux contained within the diary. In doing so, he slayed the basilisk guarding it by stabbing it with the Sword of Gryffindor."

"I have heard of that incident, however, I do not see-" started Harry, he had always wondered how Ron could have done something like that. Now, however, he knew he would have done the same, regardless of the consequences.

"The sword imbues all that strengthen it, when it killed the basilisk it absorbed it's venom," said Dumbledore patiently.

"If we stab them with the sword it should destroy them," concluded Harry.

"Exactly. And I happen to have the sword here," Dumbledore ventured into one of the many cabinets, and produced a glass case, the sword glinting as the light hit it.

"Destroy them then," said Harry impatiently. If Dumbledore knew all of this, what was the point in lecturing him!

"I think you should," said Dumbledore, handing Harry the sword. It was heavier than expected, but Harry never knew if that was just because of the deed he was about to commit with it, or the actual weight of the sword.

The horcruxes seemed to realise something was amiss, as they began to shake, rattling more violently as he drew closer.

With no hesitation, he stabbed the cup, a high pitched scream resounding throughout the room at the impact, and striking Harry to his core. The diadem, knowing it was left, emitted a black fog, obscuring the room. Images formed in the mist, pulsating slightly, and Harry saw Ginny, her eyes cold and steely, as she surveyed him with barely concealed scorn.

_"I knew you were too weak. You're a coward, hiding behind Dumbledore when all around you the war is being waged. Look at you,"_ her voice turned icy cold,_ "You can't even destroy a horcrux, what hope is there for anyone if Harry Potter can't fight!"_

"Harry, just stab it, it isn't real," Dumbledore's voice seemed far away, and despite his words Harry's grip slackened on the sword, causing it to fall to the floor with a loud thud.

How could he destroy Ginny?

"Master Harry, you must destroy it," Dobby's desperate cry wasn't registered, and dimly Harry saw a figure kneel down to pick up the sword.

"Why would I even pick you! There are far better choices out there for a girl like me," aged fingers forced him to accept the sword, before forcing him to strike down upon the diadem. A scream tore its way up Ginny's throat as she faded, and Harry ran forward, his hands reaching out, and clenching around nothing. Slowly the light returned, and they were left with a pierced cup, and a diadem cut into two.

"Harry, are you alright?" Dumbledore's voice was filled with concern, and Harry - much to his embarrassment - felt tears pooling in his eyes as he trembled. Logically he knew it wasn't Ginny, but still, her words were etched on his skull, weighing down his thoughts.

"Master Harry, please respond," Dobby squeaked anxiously.

"I-I'm fine. So, two more to go, right?" He tried to inject some normalcy into his tone, but even he knew he had failed miserably.

"Yes," Harry was grateful that Dumbledore ignored his state, instead getting on with the matter at hand.

"Does Masters need Dobby for anything else?" asked Dobby eagerly, the event that had just transpired seemed not to have affected him, and for a moment Harry was envious of the elf.

"Well, Dobby..." began Dumbledore.

* * *

_A/N: Thank you so much for the feedback! I know I'm late updating, but this chapter was really hard to write - this is the second draft, and even that has been edited a lot! Even now I'm not so sure about it, but I hope it suffices :) There are only at most three chapters left, and so I want to get it finished within the next three weeks :) I couldn't resist adding Dobby, and to make it clear, Ron filled in Harry's role in the Chamber of Secrets, personally I think he was capable._

_Next chapter is the cave, and planning for the attack, and I hope you have enjoyed this chapter :D_

_ DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter :(_

_I apologise for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes contained within this chapter._

_Please Review!_


	16. Chapter 16

_ It is sadder to find the past again and find it inadequate to the present than it is to have it elude you and remain forever a harmonious conception of memory. _  
_~ F. Scott Fitzgerald_

* * *

The first thing that hit them was the cold. It chilled their bones, seeping into their flesh, and making the unexplainable feeling of dread tingle along their skin. Harry felt Dobby tremble next to him, his ears drooping as if they could offer some protection. Dumbledore looked calm as ever, but there was an electricity in the air that had been absent in the office.

The smell of sea salt clung to their nostrils. They had appeared in the opening of a cave... a cave that was very, very familiar. Water trickled down the uneven walls, plants clinging onto the slippery surface, all fighting for the best spot. There was dampness too. It mingled with the sea salt, and to Harry it reminded him of decay. A preview of the rotting flesh concealed beneath the murky waters of the lake.

He could see the island. The eerie glow of the basin was visible amongst the darkness. It was like a beacon of hope to those who managed to stumble past the cave's protections, until they were claimed by the inferi, destined to become one until the caster either cancelled the spell or died.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, the sound reverberating off the stone, but stopping Harry's mind from focusing anymore on the horrors hidden just out of sight. Dobby looked up at him, his green eyes filled with fear, but also with a steel Harry had not expected from the chatty elf, and Harry felt the first sparks of respect ignite.

"It should be around here somewhere," mumbled Dumbledore, moving towards the bank's edge... his left foot dangerously close to the water.

"Sir, the inferi, remember," warned Harry, reaching out to pull the Headmaster back.

"I have not forgotten, Harry... Ah! Here it is!" Dumbledore's hand had grasped something, and Harry saw the familiar rusty chain appear, coiled in his aged hand. With a strength belying his years, Dumbledore pulled the chain, and a boat sailed towards them, stopping when it hit the bank. Harry had to admit, that whilst his father was brilliant with some of his feats of magic, this wasn't one of his best. The boat was small, big enough for one fully grown wizard, but Voldemort had not suspected an underage one and a house-elf being able to get past his defences too, and although it was tight, the boat managed to fit them all.

It was foolish to base protections on information one assumes, and that would be Voldemort's downfall.

Careening into the darkness, Harry saw the glow become brighter, not dimmed by the mist exuding from the lake. The temperature seemed to drop the closer they got, and he wrapped his cloak tighter around himself and Dobby, who was situated on his lap. Dumbledore smiled at this, but apart from that no words or signals were exchanged, all their thoughts were towards the island, and the horcrux it contained.

Harry's breath fogged in front of him as he moored the boat, pining the chain under a rock. Dobby was waiting for Dumbledore. The man was rummaging in his pockets, before finally producing what appeared to be a small, silver lighter. Staring at it, Dumbledore smiled once more, and he clicked a switch. Nothing happened at first, but then a ball of light zoomed out of the small device, floating up to the ceiling, and illuminating all.

"That should keep our friends at bay," said Dumbledore, moving quickly up to the basin.

Harry was slightly awed. The solution was indeed clever, but now was not the time for admiration, and so he pushed it aside. Clambering up the rocky embankment, Harry followed the Headmaster and Dobby, finding them staring at the basin.

Up close it was even more eerie. The green glow seemed to pulsate, shimmering in the air before receding, hinting at the poison contained within. A large shell sat next to the basin, and when Harry tried to touch the luminous liquid, he found that only the shell could breach the barrier. Crude, but effective.

"I must drink it," said Harry, picking up the shell.

"No, you are too important," said Dumbledore, reaching out to take the shell.

"Dobby volunteers, Masters," Dobby squeaked, and once more Harry felt his respect for the small creature grow.

"No! Here me out. When I was a child, Voldemort made me drink this when he checked on the locket after Regulus Black failed to steal it. It was to test my loyalty. Beforehand he had given me a potion to make the effects less severe - he wouldn't want his heir dying on him after all," Harry's voice took on a bitter tone, "The potion taught my antibodies how to react, and so I won't die. If any of you drink it you will, and so it is only logical for me to do this."

"Harry, are you sure?" Dumbledore looked incredibly reluctant, and Harry opened his mind, lowering his defences and inviting the Headmaster to see the truth.

* * *

_"Harry, you must drink this now. Do it for your father," coaxed Voldemort, holding the shell up to the small boy's lips._

_"I don't wanna!" said Harry stubbornly, crossing his arms._

_"I will be very pleased if you do, you know I would never hurt you, Harry," said Voldemort gently._

_"You sure?" asked Harry, eyeing the liquid suspiciously._

_"Of course, Harry."_

_"Okay!" said Harry happily, seeing his father smile._

_The liquid had burned slightly, and he had coughed after the first sip. Voldemort had insisted he was fine, and so he drank... and drank. Images swirled before his eyes, and he had screamed, but even then he consumed that which tormented him. It made his father happy after all._

_"Harry, you're alright now. It's over," soothed Voldemort, "You have made me very happy, and you will be rewarded."_

_Harry opened his eyes, the cave swimming back into his vision. He felt a lot better, and his stomach was a little sloshy when he moved. Harry giggled at this, earning a chuckle from his father._

_"Well done, Harry, let's go home."_

* * *

"See, I was fine," pointed out Harry, seeing Dumbledore's ashen face.

"You were a child," he gasped, gripping the pedestal for support.

"I was never a child, but you see, I will be fine," said Harry.

"I would rather you never had to go through that again," sighed Dumbledore, sadness colouring his tone.

"It is not the worst thing I've done," argued Harry.

"... Do it," Dumbledore's words echoed throughout the cave, and Harry never hesitated, plunging the shell into the liquid, and bringing it to his lips. Fire burned down his throat, the familiar burn pooling in his stomach.

"Dobby, when I can't do this, make me drink this. Dumbledore, don't let me get to the water," ordered Harry, sipping once more.

_Voldemort taking away his favourite bear, the one Bellatrix had sneaked to him behind her Master's back. He had cried for hours, before being told that boys do not cry, and that he should be proud... he was becoming a man. He never felt any different after those words, he was still a child, and he had lost his only friend in the castle._

The potion was cool at first, before exploding into the fireball. Harry wondered if it was worse the older one got. The older you were the more magically powerful it was assumed you would be, it would be a logical defence, and he was glad that Dumbledore hadn't attempted to drink it. If this was what it did to one just over age, then what it would do to the Headmaster did not bear thinking about.

_The pain as he was tortured was endless. To build up his defence if he was ever captured by the Order his father had told him, but as the curses riddled his body, Harry couldn't see the logic in that at all. The Light wouldn't do this… and that was where the first traitorous thought had bloomed, before being pruned through years of conditioning._

Dobby was now bringing the shell to his lips, his little chants of 'Just one more, Master Harry,' and 'You need to keep drinking, Sir!' kept him going a little, giving him a little more drive. He was aware of Dumbledore's concerned eyes on him, but there was little the aged wizard could do now.

_His first witness of torture. He was three, and he had lost his snitch - this one from Pettigrew. The screams had attracted him, and the made his way to the main hall, peeking through the crack in the wall, the one he used to see if his father was in a bad mood or a good mood when he summoned him. The woman, a blond, was writhing on the floor, her back arched, as his father trained his wand on her, glee filling his features. The room radiated power, and Harry quickly shuffled along, wanting to see no more._

"Water! I need water!" he gasped, limbs flailing as he tried to knock the shell out of Dobby's hands. He clawed at the rock, trying to find some purchase on the slippery tone, anything to pull him closer to his goal. He snarled when strong hands encased his upper arms, moving him back to the basin. He never wanted to go back there... Please don't make me go back there... Please... No! Another sip, another wave of agony.

And then the blessed words:

"Last one, Master Harry."

His pain was nearly over, and he eagerly sipped, not caring if it was burning, only that it would bring him closer to the end of this ordeal... Once consumed, the burning need for water took hold once more, and he rallied against his captor, fighting tooth and claw to get to the precious liquid.

A whispered 'Stupefy' was all it took to knock him out.

* * *

"Harry," the voice was gentle, caressing his ears. It was almost grandfatherly, and Harry felt compelled to answer. Opening his eyes, he was blinded by a bright orb. It showed him craggy ceilings, gloomy in their colouring, but as his eyes focused, he also became aware of two concerned faces. One had large green eyes, the other small blue ones, partly hidden by half-moon spectacles. When their features became more pronounced, Harry felt his mind stir, bringing up the names Dobby, and Albus Dumbledore.

"What happened?" he asked, his head thudding a little. Gingerly sitting up, he saw Dobby had tears in his eyes, and Dumbledore was looking graver than normal.

"Master Harry is very brave," sobbed Dobby, "Much braver than Dobby!"

"Er... thanks, Dobby, I think," he replied, looking slightly confused as he took in the crying elf.

"Harry, are you alright?" asked Dumbledore.

"Yes, I'm fine, just a headache," replied Harry.

"So it worked? The potion you had as a child," pressed the Headmaster.

"Yes, although I was a little concerned for a while," confessed Harry, standing up before wobbling a bit, and holding onto the stone basin.

"You weren't sure?" Dumbledore's voice had a hint of anger in it.

"I was fairly sure," corrected Harry, "Did you manage to get the horcrux?"

"Yes, it appears the inferi were scared off by my deluminator," said Dumbledore, holding the locket before Harry's eyes. The ornate 'S' jumped out at him, and Harry traced it, feeling a faint pulse beneath the metal.

"Once we get back we shall destroy it, and then you need to summon the Order," said Harry, his senses returning quickly.

"Will Voldemort know if we destroy it?"

"It is possible, with only one horcrux left, it is more likely he will feel it, especially as this is his most recent one," answered Harry, before kneeling down in front of Dobby, "Dobby, I'm fine, is it possible for you to take us back to the castle?"

Dobby looked at Harry critically for a moment before being seemingly satisfied with his condition, he also looked slightly delighted at being asked and not ordered "Of course, Master Harry."

Huddling together, Dobby clicked his fingers just as Dumbledore recalled the ball of light. As they disappeared, Harry saw a withered hand rise out the lake, before leaving the scene behind them, and hurtling on into the darkness.

* * *

_A/N: Thank you for the feedback! I felt Voldemort would see that as a good test for Harry - drinking something he knew would hurt him just to please his father - and I never really wanted Dobby drinking it (I have too much of a soft spot for that elf!) There are only two chapters left, and I'll try and get them up this week if I have time :) I hope you've enjoyed this one and reviews would be appreciated!_

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter :'(_

_I apologise for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes contained within this chapter._


	17. Chapter 17

_'I never think of the future - it comes soon enough.'_  
_~ Albert Einstein_

* * *

Ginny Weasley was not stupid. She had watched members of the Order flood into Hogwarts all day. Nervous chatter emanated from them, and a few looked triumphant, but more were wary. It was nearing Samhain, and being it the weekend most students were out at Hogsmeade, looking around for outfits for the traditional Hallows Eve ball. The reason that Ginny wasn't down with her friends was because of Harry. After that kiss, the one that even now haunted her, he had left, claiming he knew what he had to do. He wasn't brushing her off, of that she was certain, but for some reason it had left an icy lump in her chest that just refused to thaw. Instinctively, she knew that 'Something' was quite obviously bad, and the rush of Order members only amplified this fear.

Following the crowd, she came to the Great Hall. The doors were open, and from there she could see Dumbledore, standing at the podium. His face was stern, and his eyes cold. Gone was the grandfatherly look, this was a man who was getting ready for battle, and Ginny sped up, sure that Harry was in here.

Her parents were sitting over by the Gryffindor table, their red hair was unmistakable even from a distance. Avoiding them, Ginny lurked in the shadows, her eyes rapidly scanning the room, trying to discern the inky black hair, and green eyes from the masses of witches and wizards before her. But the spy was being viewed as well, and she raised her head, seeing brilliant blue eyes lingering on her.

Eyes that belonged to Albus Dumbledore.

However, instead of revealing her, he smiled slightly, inclining his head in a small greeting, before going back to monitoring the crowd. She supposed it was silly to think she could just sneak into an Order meeting, their attempts in the past had always been thwarted, why should this time be any different? Looking over at the doors, sure enough, she saw the brightly coloured threads of the wards, knitting together to created a glowing force field, selective in who is allowed to enter.

Shaking her head, she went back to watching. It appeared all had arrived now, and the doors were shut, the thud echoing throughout the Hall. All attention turned to Dumbledore, and the chattering ceased. It was almost eerie, and never at her years at Hogwarts had Ginny felt such silence fill this room.

"These are Dark times that have fell upon us. All of you here today know the hardships this world has endured under Voldemort's tyranny. However, the end is in sight," a collective gasp resounded at this, "Voldemort can, and will be vanquished. Tomorrow at dawn, we shall strike, and I have asked you here in a request for volunteers. This will not be easy, blood will be shed, and you may die, if you choose to back out I will not judge you harshly," Dumbledore finished, his expression serious, but hope burning in his eyes.

"How can we get access to the castle? In past times it has proven impenetrable," a voice piped up from the crowd.

"Harry, please step up here," said Dumbledore, and Ginny watched, her heart in her mouth as Harry rose, ascending the platform.

"You may know me as Voldemort's heir, I may have faced some of you in battle, but here that doesn't matter. We are on the same side. My father is a monster, and now with Dumbledore's help I see that now. I am keyed into the wards, Voldemort will not know we are in the castle until it is too late," Harry's words were strong, and Ginny felt her heart beat faster. He was going to fight Voldemort, one of the most powerful wizards of their lifetime. It was evident in his posture, his eyes, that he would be the one to take him on, and whilst she felt proud, she could not help the fear that gripped her, or the traitorous thought _'What if he failed?'_

Murmuring rose amongst the masses at this, and Ginny heard more than a few wonder aloud where Harry's allegiance truly lay. It appeared Dumbledore too heard this, and his expression turned stony.

"I trust, Harry. Tonight he and I have weakened Voldemort considerably, and due to him victory is far more closer than it was yesterday. If any of you are in doubt of his allegiance, please leave this Hall," said Dumbledore.

No one moved.

Ginny let out the breath she had been holding, and watched as, one by one, members of the Order stood and volunteered themselves.

"We're with you," Molly Weasley stood, followed quickly by the rest of her family. Ginny felt pride swell in her chest, but as with Harry it was mingled with fear. Pushing it down, she strode over to them, their eyes widening with surprise as they took in their youngest member. Head held high, she stood with them, and as brown eyes met green, she saw Harry shared her mixed emotions.

Remus and Tonks stood after that, echoing similar sentiments. They were soon followed by the teaching staff, and eventually all had risen. Dumbledore's appraising eyes followed this, and he smiled benevolently at them, his hands held out as if embracing them.

"We shall go over the plans later tonight, but as for now just be together, if there is one thing we have over Voldemort it is love, we would do good not to forget it," Dumbledore dismissed them, and Ginny felt her mother's eyes on her.

"Ginevra, what were you thinking!" screeched Mrs Weasley, "You're too young for this!"

"Mother, I can fight, and I have proved that time and time again. I going, and you will not be able to stop me," Ginny's eyes turned fiery, and Arthur placed a hand on his wife's shoulder.

"Molly, now isn't the time for this," he murmured, and Ginny threw a grateful glance at her dad. He knew better than anyone that she couldn't be stopped when there was something she wanted, and there was no point in starting a fight over the inevitable.

"Ginny, can I speak to you for a moment?" Harry's voice gave a nice interruption to what was looking to be a spectacular 'Mount Molly Weasley' explosion.

"Of course, Harry," she replied, throwing an "I'll see you later," to her family before following Harry out of the Hall.

Moving swiftly through the castle, Ginny struggled to keep up with his brisk stride. His whole aura spelled 'dangerous.' and she shuddered as wave after wave it crashed over her. She had never seen him so lethal before, and whilst it was surprising, she wasn't repelled. Instead, she moved closer to him as they left the castle, the chill hovering over the grounds making goosebumps form on her arms.

The grounds were silent, only the distant sounds of students coming from the direction of Hogsmeade. A slight breeze rustled through the grass, and the trees of the Forbidden Forest swayed, their aged bows creaking under the strain. It was overcast, and as they approached the lake, Ginny saw a tentacle stretching out of the water, checking the temperature, before deeming it too cold and retreating into its murky depths. Harry saw her shivering, and wrapped his cloak around her, letting her snuggle into his hard chest, his emerald eyes raking over her face.

"I don't want you to fight," he whispered, his breath ghosting over her face.

"I don't want you to fight," she said, throwing his words back at him.

"Somehow I knew you would never agree," he chuckled, but despite his light tone the worry was still evident in his eyes.

"Then why did you ask?"

"It was worth a try," Ginny felt him shrug, and laughed, the sound of her mirth echoing across the grounds.

"You're going after Voldemort, aren't you?" Seriousness returned to the conversation, and she felt him tense. It was remarkable how much his body displayed his mood, she had noticed it before, but not to this extent.

"I have to," his voice was firm, and it broached no argument.

"You don't, not really, but I don't think you'll see it that way."

"When did we get to know each other so well?" The question was unexpected, and Ginny cast her mind back, remembering all the times she had watched him when no one was looking. To admit that would sound stalker-ish, and so she tried to lie, saying a simple, "I don't know". She should have known he wouldn't buy it.

"I saw you watching me, you shouldn't be embarrassed," chuckled Harry, and his lips brushed over her forehead. "At first I saw you as a threat, and tried to freeze you out, but I couldn't help but notice you."

"I wanted to figure you out. You were a puzzle, and I wanted to solve it. At least that was the excuse I gave myself," Ginny couldn't help the smile growing on her face.

"It appears we were both incredibly good at lying to ourselves," Harry laughed quietly,and Ginny properly saw him for the first time.

"Are you okay?" She looked at Harry closely. His face was pale, and his eyes looked a little dimmer than usual.

"I'm fine, in weakening Voldemort it took a lot out of me," brushed off Harry, and Ginny knew that he would tell her the full story, but just not now, and she wouldn't push him.

"Do you think we'll win tomorrow?" she couldn't help but ask, and Harry took a moment before replying.

"We have surprise, and numbers on our side. Voldemort's main allegiance is with the vampires, and though they are powerful, during daylight they are severely weakened, and it would take too long to call them from their kingdoms. If I manage to kill Voldemort, then the rest of the forces should give up. He rules them through fear, and no doubt half of their numbers are only there because of threats." Ginny was happy that he had given such a thought out answer, and she felt the weight on her shoulders lighten slightly, but not enough to make her complacent.

"Promise me you'll be careful," she whispered, standing on her tiptoes and wrapping her arms around him, feeling him relax slightly as she did so.

"I'll try, as long as you are as well" he leaned down and kissed her, his lips betraying his need, and she gladly let him plunder her mouth. Tangling her fingers in his hair, they had a small battle for dominance, and she felt Harry groan as he gave into her. Emboldened, she kissed a line along his jaw, feeling a slight brush of stubble on her cheeks, and smiled slightly as he shuddered under her ministrations. Moving to the juncture between his throat and his collarbone, she sucked slightly on the exposed skin, leaving a small mark, but not hard enough to bruise.

"Stop," he said hoarsely, his voice slightly husky.

"Do you not like this?" Ginny analysed his face, feeling slightly smug at seeing his swollen lips, and his breathing was heavier than usual.

"How could I not?" he retorted weakly, "But I just want to stay here, just us, for now." He wrapped his arms more tightly around her in emphasis, and Ginny smiled, leaning into his embrace, and listening to the steadily slowing beating of his heart. Still, the day grew colder, and soon they headed back into the castle, their reprieve from the war over, and both dreading what was to come.

* * *

_A/N: Thank you for the feedback :D It's good to know I haven't lost all my readers in my absence! If any of you have read my other stories, then you will know I hate writing the build up to a battle, and personally I don't think I'm very good at it. Regardless, I hope this wasn't too bad, I tried to include Harry/Ginny as it has been absent for a few chapters, and I know some of you wanted to see it - and I really wanted to write it! Next chapter is the battle, and I'll try and have that up early next week, it should be a lot better than this :D_

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter *sigh*_

_I apologise for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes contained within this chapter._

_Please review!_


	18. Chapter 18

_'Now this is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.'  
~Winston Churchill  
_

* * *

They attacked at first light.

Keyed into the wards, members of the Order apparated unseen into the Manor grounds, a thick patch of forest was to the West, and that's where the second wave were already stationed. The first infiltrated silently, their footsteps muffled with cushioning charms, and those Death Eater's roaming the grounds were felled with ease.

They never even saw them coming.

The Manor itself was vast. Mist clung to it like cobwebs, and caressed the aged walls as if they were an old friend. Before Harry had seen it as comforting, and only now did he see the darkness, lurking in every brick of the place he had once called home, and sadness welled within his heart as he looked at the complex with fresh eyes.

He was alone. Voldemort never knew of his defection yet, and using this he could go in and distract him whilst the Order infiltrated the building. Making his way up to the main entrance, the gravel crunched noisily under his dragonhyde boots, and a wind whipped up, his cloak fluttering behind him ominously. Drawing his magic around him, he felt the prickle of power tickle his skin, and approached the main door.

The guards on duty weren't the brightest sort. Linden, the thin, brown haired one held what limited brains they had, whilst Crowe was the one with the muscle. Getting past them would be easy.

"My Lord, we were not expecting your presence this weekend," said Liden, saluting quickly.

"It is not for you to know my schedule, Liden," sneered Harry, "Crucio!" Unlike the countless other times he had cast this curse, he felt no satisfaction watching the wizard crumble before him. Crowe knew better than to interfere, and when Harry lifted it, he felt slightly tainted, but definitely better than Liden looked.

"I, I apologise, my Lord!" gasped Liden, raising himself back up on shaky legs.

"Where is my father?" asked Harry, ignoring the apologies of the Death Eater.

"He is in his study, my Lord," said Crowe, choosing to answer instead of his colleague.

Moving past them, Harry marched into the entrance hall, his footsteps moving almost silently across the marble floor. His father was all about grandeur. Before when Harry had looked up at the vaulted ceiling he had felt a sense of awe. The chandelier hanging in the centre seemed to drip with molten light, and as a child he had always longed to touch it, to see if it was as warm as it looked. However, now he felt a sense of detachment, his eyes looking coldly over the features he had once seen as badges of honour. Here was a far cry away from the dungeons below their feet, and if he listened closely Harry could almost hear the dejected cries of those who hadn't seen the sun in too long. Shuddering, he moved quickly up the grand staircase, the want to get this over and done with becoming stronger with each step.

On the third floor landing, he darted down a corridor guarded on either side of the entrance by statues of two mermen. Their tails were curled up to their waists, and in their left hands they clutched tridents. Beautiful they looked, the scales spattering their flesh glittering like a thousand stars on a cold winter's eve. Although now, in the light of the flickering candles they looked almost menacing, but Harry paid them no heed, instead going past them, his eyes fixed on a door further down the corridor.

Hand met wood, and with it the chance to go back was obliterated.

"Harry, come in," Voldemort's soft voice breached the door, and Harry entered, closing the door quietly behind him.

"I was not expecting you this weekend," Voldemort looked up from his desk, the mahogany surface littered with scrolls and pieces of parchment. Bookcases covered the walls, and the only light came from two candles, both standing precariously close to his tower of paper. His father had always liked to work in semi-darkness, closing the world out, and letting himself think. To Harry, however, this room felt like a prison of failed plots and ideas, all preserved in the tomes that acted as wallpaper. A fortress of false hopes and bad memories if you like.

"I apologise for not giving further notice. I merely came to report some unusual findings," lied Harry, remembering the story he and Dumbledore had concocted.

"Ah, and what would these... unusual findings be, Harry?" asked Voldemort, moving his hand in a lazy manner, summoning a chair from under a nearby table, and placing it on the other side of his desk, "Take a seat."

"Thank you," said Harry, "Over the past month I have noticed Dumbledore leaving the castle more often than usual, his absence had been over three days, when yesterday at breakfast he returned, only this time he had brought something back with him."

"And what was this?" hissed Voldemort, his eyes flashing slightly as his mind went over the possibilities. Harry knew he had immediately jumped to the horcruxes, and tried not to smile.

"A ring, to be more specific, Salazar Slytherin's ring," Harry heard the sharp intake of breath at his confirmation, and the urge to smile got steadily stronger.

"Only Lucius knew of my horcruxes," Harry remembered the glee the head of the Malfoy's had at hiding the diary in the school, and he knew with dread where this was going, "Harry, have you seen young Draco recently?"

"No, father, I have not," the words tasted like ash in his mouth.

"Show me your mark," hissed his father, and revealing his arm, Voldemort pressed a pale finger to it, bringing the image of the snake onto his skin. "Draco, come here at once."

After a few minutes, a very dishevelled Draco apparated into the study. His blond hair was mussed, and his travelling cloak covered his emerald green pyjamas. It was more than evident that the young Malfoy had just gotten out of bed.

"You wanted to see me, my Lord?" asked Draco, despite his sleepiness, his upper class manners forcing him to stand up straight.

"Yes, it has come to my attention that-" the door opened, a Death Eater - Harris, Harry thought his name was - hurried in, his face clearly betraying the fact that he never wanted to be there.

"What is the meaning of this?" asked Voldemort, his face a mask of rage at this interruption.

"I, I'm sorry my Lord, but it... it's the Order, they're here," stammered Harris.

"Incompetent fools!" screeched Voldemort, "Harry, summon the vampires!"

Watching his father move swiftly from the room, barking orders at the unfortunate Death Eater who had the duty of delivering this bad news, Harry was slightly amused to see Draco hadn't moved. Instead, he was looking sleepily at Harry, his silver eyes raking his face in a manner that filled Harry with unease.

"You knew," the words bridged the silence, and the room turned frosty as the full implications of this were realised.

"Draco, Voldemort is going to fail, the vampires will be weakened by the daylight, and the rest of our troops are but a days fly from here," said Harry, desperately wanting his childhood friend to realise the truth in his words, and not sacrifice his life for a fruitless cause. As green eyes met silver, both knew that the possibility of only one of them leaving that room was hovering over them.

"My father..." started Draco, doubt colouring his words.

"Draco, your father is brainwashed. I know what it has been like growing up in his shadow, and with Voldemort's eyes on your family at all times you have barely had the freedom to breathe!" whispered Harry quickly, "At least back out of this battle, I don't want to have to fight you."

"We need not fight, but I need your word that this is for the best," said Draco, his eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly.

"I swear upon the House's of Potter, and Riddle that this is the correct course of action to take," Harry held out his hand, and the young Malfoy clasped it tightly.

"Your judgement has never been wrong before, but if you are wrong, then I _will_ kill you," Harry heard the real threat contained within the words, but he also knew that meant Draco wouldn't fight until he got all the facts, and the relief that filled his chest was enough to knock down a hippogriff.

"That is if Voldemort doesn't kill me first," said Harry, embracing his friend, and allowing a little humour to breach the conversation.

"Try to stay alive, I would be ever so disappointed if I couldn't kill you," chuckled Draco, apparating away with a small crack.

With the departure of his friend, Harry felt the weight if the situation land firmly on his shoulders again, and moving out of the study, he could already hear the shrieks, and cries from the battlefield. Following the sound, he came to the entrance hall, pausing for a moment to survey the scene.

Large chunks had been ripped out of the floor, the gapping holes left behind, looking menacing, as if they would swallow up all who treaded near their jagged edges. Wand fire rebounded off walls, and Harry saw a statue of Salazar Slytherin disintegrate as it became the unlucky receiver of one such curse. The light from the spells seemed to surround everyone in an ethereal glow, and all around screams, and cries seemed to envelop them all.

It was a nightmare.

Not sure what side was what, Harry ducked and weaved down the stairs, trying to ignore the stickiness of the floor, and the fact that sometimes the ground wasn't as hard as it was meant to be. All the while, the only thought in his head was 'remember your training' and he grasped onto it, moving stealthily across the battlefield, a smaller, but more persistent part of his mind also screaming_ 'find Ginny and run!'_ becoming more repressed by the minute.

And there she was, fire red hair glinting just the way he remembered from the first time they met. Her face was fierce, the avenging angel was back, and one by one she felled her opponents. A strong part of him wanted to go to her, to protect her from those who wished to do her harm, but he realised that this was her fight also. She had lost many at the hands of his father and the Death Eaters, and it was only right for her to get her own back, to avenge her fallen loved ones.

Some faces he recognised: Lupin, the werewolf whom his father had wanted to recruit was grappling with Fenrir Greyback, Molly Weasley, her face so similar to her daughter's, carving her way through the battlefield, trying to protect her family, Ron and Hermione, back to back, spells being cast so quickly, it was as if their wands were working without them, and then Dumbledore. The Headmaster was surrounded, all sides closing in, and yet he still fought, still felled many, his blue eyes alight with the cold fury that sent a chill to his heart.

A loud, animalistic cry snapped his attention away from the sea of faces. His father was also surrounded, the two greatest wizards almost like magnets for the opposing forces. In one move, McGonagall, Snape, and Tonks were flung back, their bodies hitting the foremost wall. Taking his chance, Harry darted in, seeing his father's eyes widen as he registered his presence.

"Harry, fight them!" ordered Voldemort, the red orbs of his eyes flashing with barely suppressed rage.

"As you wish, father," said Harry, throwing a curse at Mulciber, and watching as he crumpled to the ground.

A jet of green light just missed his ear moments after this.

"I raised you, and you have turned on me," snarled Voldemort, and Harry blocked another curse, side-stepping moments before it hit.

"You raised me wrong!" retorted Harry, his eyes flashing to Ginny, still absorbed in the fight to register what was happening.

Voldemort followed his gaze, for he sneered, "You discovered _love_? You would abandon power for that?"

"I_ have_ abandoned it," said Harry simply, raising a shield to the barrage of spells this unleashed, and steadily feeling the cloak of his new allegiance wrap around him.

"So be it," spat Voldemort, hatred colouring his words and features.

They fought. Voldemort's strikes were like a snakes, swift and deadly, but he had trained Harry, Harry had moulded himself to his style, and as they wrecked the surrounding area, not a single spell met it's true mark.

His father growled in frustration, and Harry smiled, throwing a reducto, and the armour behind Voldemort exploded, sending the older wizard forward, onto the hard, unforgiving ground. Standing up, he surveyed Harry with a look that was almost pride. Almost.

"You have done well, but this is where it ends," he said calmly.

"I agree, although I wish to offer you one thing," replied Harry, his wand still raised.

"And that is?" asked Voldemort, his eyes shining with mild curiosity.

"Atone for your crimes, see the error of your ways. Despite this, I do not want to kill you," said Harry.

"Then I shall kill _you_! Avada kedavra!" cried Voldemort. Just before the curse landed, Harry muttered one of his own, feeling wrong at using such a curse, and ducking, Voldemort's spell missed, only for Harry's to land.

The avada kedavra, left a faint green glow around Voldemort's body, before the man fell to the ground, his eyes still showing the last trace of his anger.

"Voldemort is dead, you can either keep fighting, and die, or join us, and be tried according to your crimes, and not those of your master," Harry's voice echoed around the battlefield, and silence descended. A few Death Eaters who were still standing dropped their wands, raising their hands up in surrender. Those who chose to fight were dealt with quickly, the news of their Lord's demise keeping them in shock long enough to be subdued.

As soon as the silence had started, it ended, a rush of cheering shocking Harry's system. People crowded around him, wanting to shake his hand, or congratulating him, and fighting through the crowd, his eyes scanned his surroundings, searching for the one thing that would tell him it was over.

Emerald green eyes met cinnamon, and he saw they were filled with peace. Yes, there were casualties. Yes, the fallout would be hard. However, as long as those eyes were filled with peace, he could be too.

* * *

_A/N: I feel like I'm apologising a lot with this story! However, once again I am sorry for the wait. I'm in the middle of exam season, and for weeks have had half of this written, only to lose inspiration due to pressing deadlines! I'm going to deal with Malfoy in the next (and last!) chapter, as I know his decision may seem strange, it will be explained in more depth :) My exams finish next week, and so then I'm on holiday, therefore it** will** be up next week - I've spent too much time stressing over this story, and you have spent too long waiting! I hope this was satisfactory, and I would appreciate it if you reviewed... actually, I beg you, I know my replies have pretty much gone out of the window, but I enjoy reading every review, and if you haven't received a 'thank you' from me, then I am truly sorry, I will have more time to reply next week :)_

**IF YOU REVIEWED THE AUTHOR'S NOTE, AND STILL WANT TO REVIEW, JUST DO IT ANONOMOUSLY, I'LL STILL BE ABLE TO REPLY :)**_  
_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, if I did, then Dobby would still be alive! :(_

_I apologise for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes contained within this chapter._


	19. Chapter 19

_There is no easy walk to freedom anywhere, and many of us will have to pass through the valley of the shadow of death again and again before we reach the mountaintop of our desires.  
~Nelson Mandela  
_

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Wind breezed through the trees, the aged bows creaking as they were torn forcefully from their slumber. Leaves fluttered around his legs, and Harry shivered slightly, however, seeing his friend, fought the chill making its way up his spine.

Draco Malfoy walked towards him, his stride purposeful, and his face set in a grim line that reminded him so much of Lucius.

"Harry," the greeting was curt, and Harry nodded, sitting down on one of the old logs that littered the forest floor. After only a glance, Draco joined him, and Harry felt some hope that their friendship would be salvaged. If he had been wanting to belittle him for his choices then he would have remained standing, now they were on an even ground. They were equals.

"Draco, I believe you would like an explanation," Harry's words were slightly cold, showing he could not be swayed or drawn to any other course. Draco never moved, another good sign.

"Indeed I would," Draco's eyes were tired, and Harry knew he had spent the night in Azkaban with his father. If he wasn't mistaken, Lucius's trial was today, and Harry knew right now that the elder Malfoy had earned himself a ticket to Azkaban regardless of his defence. Draco knew this too, and the way he held himself was slightly more withdrawn, only the inherent need to keep his reputation from allowing himself to fully crumble. In pureblood circles, however, the signs he was exhibiting showed more than he was supposed to.

"I first came to Hogwarts with the intention of infiltrating the Order, and destroying it from within. In my capacity as spy, I came into contact with Ginny, and my… perspective changed. This led to my subsequent joining the Order, and betrayal of my father," Harry said all this coldly, and basically it boiled down to _'I met a woman'_. He hated that part, as that was the part Draco would latch onto, but it was so much more than that, and Draco wouldn't see it.

"You did all of this because of that blood traitor?" Draco's voice held no contempt, only mild curiosity, and a slight hint of bewilderment.

"She is not a blood traitor!" the anger in Harry's voice surprised even him, and Draco's eyes widened a fraction.

"So the Dark Lord's heir can love," Draco looked as if he was looking at a vaguely interesting creature, but Harry saw the volume of curiosity beneath the silvery eyes.

"What side do you pick?" asked Harry, growing slightly impatient at this. Did they really think him so cold that he couldn't love?

"The winning one obviously, and that appears to be yours," chuckled Draco, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. This was Draco's way of defecting without it appearing he was doing so. He was keeping his titles, and his reputation, and above all they would remain friends.

"I would expect no less of you, Draco," Harry smiled, the first genuine smile to appear on his face since the end of the battle - just over a week ago.

"Now, I must leave, even in Azkaban my father would find a way to kill me if I wasn't at his trial to support mother". Weariness once more passed over his features, and Harry embraced him, feeling Draco at first resist, but then awkwardly return it.

"You have a chance to escape him, please use it," Harry said sadly, with Draco nodding once - either in understanding or acceptance he never knew - and disapparated with a small crack.

Making his way back up to the castle, Harry wrapped his cloak around him a little tighter. It was almost Christmas, and already the grounds had seen their first sprinkle of snow, glistening in the midday sun. The sky was clear, and a gaggle of birds flew by, their journey already beginning to a warmer land, and Harry wished he could follow. He wished he could escape the cold confines of this castle, and the sad faces of those who had lost loved ones in the battle. He wished he could take Ginny with him, that they could carve a life together. However, he accepted that was for the future, and now was a time to honour the dead, and the living who had given so much to the cause.

Moving into the courtyard, the last sight he expected to see was his parents, he thought they would be with the Weasley's comforting them over the loss Percy - Harry hadn't known him, but according to Ginny they had been estranged for a few years, and had only reconnected during the summer. Now, he saw his parents underneath an old tree, Lily lying against James, who was running his fingers through his hair, making it look as if he had just gotten off a broom.

"Harry, there you are!" called Lily, her cheeks flushed, but Harry never thought it was with the cold, and her eyes contained a fire he had only seen in old photographs.

"How did you know I was out here?" asked Harry, moving over to them, seeing Lily had conjured blue fire in a jar, and that the warmth seemed to hit him when he was a foot away.

"Ginny told us, she said you were talking to Draco," the question was evident in James's face if not his words.

"I've convinced him to turn to the Light," said Harry, hating the way his voice sounded so serious.

"I've never liked the Malfoy's," James's sounded a little angry, but Harry brushed it off. He never expected a family that was based entirely in Gryffindor to accept one immersed in Slytherin, but maybe now the war was over the gap could be bridged, his friendship with Draco helping them see from a more aristocratic pureblood perspective, that they had rejected many years ago.

Prejudice existed on both sides, just because he was Light did not mean he agreed with all their assumptions. Certainly a House did not determine your morals.

"James, if Draco is friends with Harry then you'll have to accept that," scolded Lily, and immediately James's lost the righteously angry look.

"Where is Ginny?" asked Harry, watching his parents, and marvelling at how they seemed more youthful by the minutes. Then he remembered the tree, and how they had used to come here when they were in Hogwarts, and he guessed it was their peaceful place, the place they came that reminded them of a time more calm, helping them connect to themselves again. They would be alright, as would everyone in this castle, and it warmed his heart a little when he saw how content they were with each other, and a small part of him wondered if he would have that with Ginny, and a large part of him hoped he would.

"She's in the Great Hall with the others". For a moment sadness passed over Lily's face, but then James's squeezed her hand, and the looked melted away, replaced with a smile, "Go to her, she'll need you now, we'll see you at the memorial."

"Son," Harry heard James's voice as he turned away, "We're proud of you, and if you need us we'll be here."

"Thank you," Harry couldn't have hidden how thick his voice had became, and embracing his parents, he felt the stitches come together, the ties that bound him to these people solidifying. He felt accepted, and when he turned away, and entered the castle, he realised James's words had another meaning. Feeling a grin slide onto his face, he suppressed it quickly, entering the Great Hall as silently as he could.

Ginny, her family, and Hermione were huddled at the Gryffindor table. All had stayed for the memorial, and had practically stayed at the castle in the past week, but Harry knew it was mainly to keep themselves busy, and to stay away from a home that had lost one of it's members. Mrs Weasley was in tears again, and Arthur was rubbing soothing circles on her back, his face the very picture of grief. The rest of the Weasley's and Hermione held a vaguely lost look, and as they ate breakfast, Harry wondered how they were going to handle the memorial after breakfast.

Sitting next to them, he took Ginny's hand underneath the table, squeezing it gently, and trying to give her support. It had been a hard week for them, and he knew it was far from over, but they would get through it, and that he believed in with all his heart. Cinnamon eyes looked gratefully at him, and she rubbed her thumb in circles on the palm of his hand. A gesture of thanks, and he smiled, his grin only growing wider when she returned it.

Seeing a grimfaced Dumbledore stand up, all students and Order members who had gathered stood as well, and Harry felt himself become solemn once more.

"We have won a great victory, but in doing that lives were lost, but not in vain, never think of them as being forfeited in vain," Dumbledore's eyes swept over the Weasley family, "Today we honour them, and everyday we will remember them. It is our duty to make sure they are not forgotten, and this we shall complete to our utmost. We will remember them."

"We will remember them," echoed throughout the hall, and everyone sat down once more, gathering their things to make their way out to the grounds where the statue would be uncovered. Sharing a look with Ginny, they walked out hand in hand, and much to his amusement Harry noted Hermione and Ron doing the same.

They would be alright. They would get past this, and although it would haunt them, it would haunt them together.

Hands clasped tightly, they faced the future.

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_'Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end.'_  
_~Seneca_

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_A/N: Thank you for the feedback! IT'S FINALLY FINISHED! I want to thank those of you who have stuck with me, and my annoying amount of writer's block, and lack of time. This ending, whilst open, I feel is best, as I like to think that the characters lives go on in the world I've written. Also, you may be annoyed that I only mentioned Percy dying, and not a major character, but I wasn't in the mood for a Hamlet ending, and I like Dumbledore, so there was no way I was killing him off! Ergo, Percy had to die :( Anyhoo, enough from me, I guess you're sick of my author's notes by now! Sorry, I'm just happy I finished this :D As always reviews are appreciated, and happy holidays!_

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter *sigh*_

_I apologise for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes that are present in this story.  
_


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